


When the Second is First

by EmeraldOcean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jimmy, Breaking Up & Making Up, Christmas, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Loves Pie, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Infidelity, Food Kink, Halloween, Hand Jobs, Holidays, Infidelity Outside of Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jealous Castiel, Jealous Dean, Jealous Jimmy, Jealousy, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Love at First Sight, M/M, Masturbation, No Threesome, Non-Consensual Touching (minor and in one scene not involving Dean or Cas), POV Alternating, Panty Kink, Phone Calls, Phone Sex, Pining Castiel, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Castiel, Possessive Jimmy, Rimming, Self-Hatred, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Switch Dean, Thanksgiving, Top Castiel, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:35:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 110,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldOcean/pseuds/EmeraldOcean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a family of five strong-willed and contentious brothers, identical twins Cas and Jimmy have always been able to depend on and trust in each other. Now all that may change when one Dean Winchester comes into their lives. The green-eyed mechanic catches the attention of both of the brothers at a time when sibling loyalty and familial obligation is at an all-time low in the Novak family. Will Dean be able to help the brothers bring their family closer together? Or will the choices of some end up tearing the family apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: There is actually a company called Novak Construction located in Chicago, IL. I saw it while driving through the city one day and that is where the idea for this story originated. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

“Cas, please! You’ve got to do this for me. You know that I never ask you for anything. I just need you to do this one itty-bitty, tiny little thing.” Castiel rolls his eyes and sighs exasperatingly at his brother before glancing quickly at his watch. 

“Jimmy, I can’t. I have an appointment in half an hour to meet with the potential new mechanic. I have to leave in five minutes.” He stands up from his desk and shrugs on his suit coat before walking toward the hook by the door to grab his tan overcoat. 

Jimmy stops him with a hand on his arm and Castiel shoots him an annoyed look. “That’s perfect, Cas! I can go check out the new mechanic and _you_ can sit in on the meeting with Crowley! That way you don’t have to leave the office and I don’t have to talk to that smarmy asshole. It’s a win-win! Please, Cas… you know how much I hate the guy.” 

Jimmy looks pleadingly at Castiel, going so far as to clasp the fingers of his right hand over his fisted left and bring them up under his chin while simultaneously affecting the most pathetic sad eyes and jutting lower lip that is capable of a grown man. It works surprisingly well even though Castiel knows that he’s being played – he’s always had a hard time saying ‘no’ to his twin and Jimmy, damn him, knows this. 

But Castiel knows the reason behind Jimmy’s hatred of Crowley and he can’t blame his brother for wanting to avoid the man. Crowley always schedules his meetings at Novak Construction with Jimmy specifically and then proceeds to spend the entire time dropping hints of a sexual nature and then lingering over handshakes and casual touches. He’s never done anything blatantly inappropriate though and he’s one of Novak Enterprises biggest clients so there’s not a whole lot they can do about it. 

The one thing that they _can_ do, on occasion, is have Castiel take the meeting instead. It irritates the client but he has no grounds to complain really, seeing as that Castiel is the president of Novak Construction (a subsidiary of Novak Enterprises) and Jimmy is only the VP. So really, the oily Brit should feel honored by Castiel’s presence. Unfortunately for him though, while Castiel and Jimmy may look identical, their demeanors are usually quite different. Where Jimmy is light-hearted attentiveness, Castiel is cool reserve. Even someone as entitled and arrogant as Fergus Crowley wouldn’t dare try to pull the kind of crap he does with Jimmy on Castiel instead. He’s been told on several occasions that his steely blue gaze can be quite terrifying. 

“Fine,” Castiel says, and walks back to his desk to scribble onto a post-it note. 

Jimmy fist pumps into the air and does an awkward little dance before running up and gathering Castiel into a great big hug and giving him a wet smack of lips on his cheek. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won’t regret it, Cas!” 

“I’m not so sure about that.” Castiel rips the post-it off of the pad and hands it to his smiling brother. “Here’s the address of the mechanic shop. You need to leave now if you’re going to make it on time.” 

“Yes, absolutely!” Jimmy turns around and sprints for the door but turns back to look at Castiel one last time. “What’s the mechanic’s name?”

“Dean Winchester. He’s Sam Winchester’s brother.” Sam Winchester is one of the Novak’s lawyers. He hasn’t been with the company for long but Castiel has been very impressed with the young attorney’s attitude and work ethic. When he had mentioned to the man that the company was in need of a new mechanic for occasional maintenance and upkeep on their vehicles, Sam had been quick to refer his older brother. 

Jimmy’s smile grows impossibly wider at this information and Castiel just knows what his brother is going to say next. “Well, if he looks anything like Sam I’m in for a very pleasant afternoon. Thanks again, Cas. I owe you!”

“Don’t be late and don’t embarrass the company! We need a mechanic, not a potential law suit!” Jimmy just winks at him before slipping out of the room, leaving Castiel shaking his head fondly as he mentally prepares himself for the upcoming meeting. He’s positive that his own afternoon won’t be very pleasant at all. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and ducks his head out from beneath the hood of the car that he’s working on. He wipes his hands on a shop towel quickly before digging the phone out and pressing ‘accept’. “Heya Sammy!” 

“ _Dean? I can barely hear you. What’s all that noise_?” 

“Oh! Hold on!” Dean runs over to the stereo and turns down the classic rock station that he likes to have blaring while he works. “That better?”

“ _Yeah, much._ ”

“So, what’s up, man? You just call me to complain about my music, Bitch?” Sam may be an adult now with a fancy job and a fancier apartment but to Dean he’ll always be his annoying little brother. 

“ _No, Jerk. I called to remind you that Castiel is going to be there soon to talk to you about possibly working on the vehicles here. I need you to take this seriously, Dean. It’s a really big opportunity_.” 

Dean rolls his eyes even though Sam can’t see it. He doesn’t even really know why Sam had put his name in for this contractor position in the first place. He’s happy where he is. He and Bobby had followed Sam to Chicago when he had received his position at Novak. The two had taken over a small mechanic shop on the north side of the city and moved into a house nearby. The house has what was referred to as a ‘mother-in-law’ apartment on the upper floor so Dean lives there while Bobby lives on the main floor below. It isn’t extravagant but it’s enough for Dean. He isn’t like Sam who hopes to one day live in a multi-million dollar condo overlooking Grant Park. 

“You worried that I’m going to embarrass you, Sammy? Or did you think I just forgot completely? And what the hell kind of name is ‘Castiel’ anyway?” He hadn’t actually forgotten, per se, but a quick glance at his watch makes Dean realize that the day has really gotten away from him. The guy is supposed to be here any minute. 

In fact, as he turns his head to look through the window set into the door that leads though to the office and the waiting area, Dean can see his receptionist, Charlie speaking with a dark-haired man in an expensive looking suit right now. Sam is babbling in his ear but Dean has since stopped paying attention. The man is hot – maybe this interview won’t be a complete waste of time after all. “ _… best for you, Dean._ ”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure thing, Sammy. Look, I gotta go, I think the guy’s here.” 

“ _Ok, Dean. Good luck… and call me later to tell me how it went_.” 

“You got it, Sam. Talk to you later.” Dean hangs up the phone and slips it back into the pocket of his jeans just as Charlie peeks her head through the door.

“Dean, there’s a Mr. Novak here to see you.” She says it sweetly but Dean doesn’t miss the exaggerated eye-brow waggle that she gives him. 

Charlie is one of Dean’s best friends. The petite red-head is his go-to companion for frequenting gay bars or sci-fy/fantasy movies marathons and all things nerdy that Dean likes to pretend that he doesn’t enjoy (though anyone who really knows him knows that he’s a sucker for that kind of stuff). 

“Can you bring him through to the office, Charlie? I need to clean up a bit first.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Charlie scurries back through the door into the waiting area and Dean hurries over to the shop sink to try to make himself look somewhat presentable. It’s mostly a lost cause but he cleans his hands as thoroughly as possible and tries to wipe a couple of grease smudges off his face, leaving his skin looking a bit red which makes his freckles stand out. He scowls at his face but then tries on a charming smile figuring it will have to do. 

He walks through the door into the waiting area and ruffles Charlie’s hair as he walks by reception, causing the woman to squeak indignantly and rush to fix it. It makes his smile a bit more genuine, the fondness for his friend showing on his face, and then he’s walking through the door to the office to greet the dark-haired man.

The man turns in his chair and stands to meet Dean, his hand outstretched to shake. Dean takes his hand but somehow forgets how to shake it – he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten his own name at this point too. The man is gorgeous – tall and slightly tanned with sharp features and bright blue eyes. “H-Hi…” 

“Hello. You must be Dean. May I call you ‘Dean’?” The man is still holding Dean’s hand. He’s looking a bit unsure but the sparkle in his eyes and the lopsided grin on his face reminds Dean that he must look like an absolute fool – he needs to act quickly if he’s going to come out of this with even a shred of dignity. 

“Yes! Dean is fine…” He squeezes the beautiful man’s hand with a quick shake and lets it go, walking around the desk to sit in his chair. “And can I call you ‘Castiel’?” He makes a ‘please sit’ gesture and they both take their seats. 

“Actually, my name is James… but I prefer ‘Jimmy’. Castiel is my brother but something came up unexpectedly so I’m here instead.” He gives Dean a once-over and the grin never leaves his face. “I hope that’s okay?” 

Dean has recovered enough to be able to give his own cocky smirk to the man as he leans back a bit in his chair. “It’s more than okay.” He picks up a pen and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger before bringing it up and resting the end lightly on his lower lip. Jimmy follows the motion with his eyes, his tongue quickly wetting his lower lip before his eyes return to Dean’s and he seems to remember himself.

“So! As I’m sure your brother told you, Novak Construction is looking for a mechanic for our fleet of vehicles here in Chicago. It’s a fair amount of vehicles but we’d leave the maintenance schedule up to your discretion… so long as everything stays in working order.”

“It sounds like an interesting offer, Jimmy, but… you’ve seen my shop here, we’re not really equipped to handle large trucks or vehicles of that nature.” Dean hadn’t expected that this partnership would work when Sam had explained it to him but now that he has to turn it down, he finds himself kind of disappointed. 

“Oh, I guess Sam hasn’t explained it all to you then.” Dean squints his confusion and Jimmy continues. “We actually have all of the space and equipment that you’ll need at our central location. You’d have to go there to do the work but, like I said… you’ll have everything you need and you can decide when the work gets done.”

Dean doesn’t answer right away – he silently considers the man’s offer while gently nipping at the end of the pen. Jimmy’s eyes have returned to watching Dean’s mouth and Dean can’t help but feel a bit of smug self-satisfaction at the hungry look on the man’s face. He shifts a bit in his seat, pitching slightly forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he addresses Dean further. “All I would need… I mean, all _we_ would need is your very capable hands.” 

“Just my capable hands, huh? Is that all you need, Jimmy?” Dean can’t believe what’s happening right now. Dean would be the first to admit that he’s a shameless flirt but this is business. Sam would probably kill him if he knew how Dean was acting. Though, Dean can’t take all the blame here… he’s only giving as good as he’s getting. 

“That’s all, Dean. Although… I wouldn’t be averse to taking you out for a drink to congratulate you on your new position – if you were up for something like that.” 

This time it’s Dean who leans forward, elbows placed on his desk as he rests his chin on his folded hands. “I would like that.” 

“Excellent! Let me give you my personal cell number and you can text me the address where I can pick you up. How does eight o’clock sound?” He writes down a phone number on a scrap of paper and Dean takes out his phone to program it in. He usually prefers to drive himself but finding parking for Baby (his ’67 Chevy Impala) is a real bitch in this city. 

Dean finishes sending the text and then stands up and holds out his hand again, this time remembering how to shake like a normal human. “Eight o’clock sounds great.” 

“Great! Wonderful! I’ll see you then.” Jimmy shakes back, allowing his hand to linger long past what is politely acceptable, but Dean doesn’t mind. The man has a firm grip… Dean can’t wait to feel how firm that grip can be on other parts of his anatomy. “Oh, and Dean… thank you for joining the Novak family. You won’t regret it.” 

Dean’s not so sure about that but he supposes it will at least be interesting. Now he just needs to figure out how to tell Sam that he’s going on a date with their boss – maybe he’ll leave that conversation for tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

The high-pitched ringing of his cell phone wakes Dean from a very pleasant dream featuring bright blue eyes and soft dark hair. He cracks one eye open to find his face smashed into the very same dark hair, his body pressed up against another very naked body, and his arm draped over the other man’s waist. Jimmy’s hand grasps Dean’s own and pulls his arm tight up against his chest as he traps one of Dean’s legs between his own two. The octopus imitation is cute but Dean should really answer his phone – it’s probably his bother calling to bitch about Dean not getting a hold of him last night. “Jimmy, you’ve got to let me go.”

He tries to extricate his hand to retrieve his cell but Jimmy just tightens his hold and grumbles a petulant, “No.”

“Come on, man… I need to get that. It’s probably Sam.”

Jimmy sighs noisily but lets go, allowing Dean to roll over and reach for the cell phone on the nightstand. He’s able to grab the phone but he doesn’t get any farther than that because Jimmy turns over as well, sneaking his head under Dean’s arm to lay it on his chest as he snuggles into Dean’s side, arm and leg draping over him once again. 

Dean chuckles lightly and answers the phone – and just as he thought, it’s his brother on the other end. “Why the hell are you calling me at eight a.m. on a Saturday?” Sam knows that Bobby works on Saturdays, giving Dean the freedom to stay out late on Friday nights and not have to get up early on Saturday. But Bobby stays home on Mondays, leaving Dean to deal with the grouchy people who couldn’t get their cars seen to on Sundays, so it all works out. 

“ _You didn’t call me last night, Dean. I was worried about you._ ”

“Yeah, well I was busy. I didn’t realize that I had to check in with you, Mom.” Dean runs his hand gently through Jimmy’s mop of soft hair and the man starts to kiss Dean’s chest, pausing to suck on one nipple before continuing on down. 

“ _Dean... you know that I wanted to hear about the interview. So, how did it go?_ ” 

Jimmy ducks his head beneath the covers and begins to nuzzle at Dean’s rapidly growing erection. He licks a broad swipe up the length of Dean’s cock and takes the head into his mouth, sucking gently and proceeding to bob his head up and down. Dean lets out an involuntary moan, momentarily forgetting that he’s got his brother on the other end of the line. 

“ _Dean? Are you ok?_ ”

Dean takes a deep breath and attempts to focus on the phone in his hand – trying, and failing, to ignore the sucking wet heat on his aching cock. “Yeah, Sam, I’m fine. Can we talk about this later?” His voice goes unnaturally high at the end there and he presses the phone to his chest as he breathes out, “Jesus, fuck!” He feels a slight vibration around his dick and he realizes that Jimmy is laughing – the little shit. 

“ _Sure, Dean. Why don’t we meet for lunch at noon? The usual place?_ ” 

“Yep, sounds good. See you then!” He hangs up the call before Sam can even respond and tosses the device lightly onto the nightstand. He throws off the covers to see Jimmy looking up at him, dick in his mouth but a mischievous glint in his eyes that Dean can’t help but smile at. His face is all flushed from the heat of the bedding cocoon and his hair is sticking up all over the place. The sight does something to Dean and in the next moment he’s reaching down and dragging the man up to lie on top of him, grabbing him by that messy dark hair and crashing their lips together. He can taste himself on Jimmy’s tongue but he doesn’t mind, if anything it makes Dean even more turned on. 

“I’m going to get you for that,” Dean says, rolling Jimmy over so that he’s lying on his back with Dean hovering over him. 

“Promise?” Jimmy smirks and Dean leans down to kiss that look off his face. 

He pulls back and breathes out a gruff, “Roll over.” Jimmy hastens to comply and when he’s on his stomach, Dean grabs him by the hips, pulling him up so that his knees are braced on the bed and his ass is up in the air. Dean then takes a cheek in each hand and spreads them apart so that he can pass his tongue wetly over Jimmy’s hole, making the man groan into the pillow below. 

He spends a few minutes opening Jimmy up with his tongue and his fingers. It doesn’t take long – Jimmy is still kind of loose from last night. When he’s just about ready, writhing and whimpering below Dean’s clever ministrations, Dean reaches over to the other nightstand and grabs the bottle of lube and a condom from where they left them last night. He opens up the small square package and rolls the condom down over his throbbing dick and then he pours a bit of lube in one hand, using some to slick up his cock and the rest to double check that Jimmy is ready – three fingers fitting in smoothly and easily. 

“You ready for me, Baby?” Dean smooths the palm of his hand up and down Jimmy’s slightly shaking back, trying to get him to relax so that he won’t hurt him. 

“Yes, Dean… _please_ … fuck me…” Dean groans at the man’s request and wastes no more time before slipping the head of his cock inside of Jimmy, slowly pressing forward until he bottoms out. He stills for a moment to make sure that Jimmy has time to adjust but it’s not long before he’s squirming his hips, pushing back against Dean to encourage him to move. Dean doesn’t need to be told twice so he pulls out until just the head of his dick is still inside and snaps his hips forward to bury himself again. 

Jimmy shouts, “Yes!” and Dean groans out, “Fuck…” and they quickly fall into a steady rhythm, both of the men climbing closer and closer toward ecstasy. Before too long, Dean can feel himself getting close so he drapes himself over Jimmy’s back and takes the man’s cock in his hand, firmly stroking in time to his thrusts. It doesn’t take long before Jimmy gasps and Dean feels the warm wetness of his release coating his hand. He works him through it as Jimmy’s ass clenches around Dean’s dick, giving him that last bit that he needs to come himself. 

He only allows himself a few moments to bask in the high of orgasm, resting his head on Jimmy’s back as the man’s chest heaves below him, then he pulls out and takes off the condom, tying it up and tossing it in the small garbage can that’s sitting next to the nightstand. He falls heavily back onto the mattress, lying next to Jimmy while his heart returns to a normal pace. Jimmy nudges him, silently asking him to scoot over on the kind-sized bed so that he doesn’t have to lie in the mess of cooling come. When Dean complies, Jimmy rolls over and lies half on top of Dean, mirroring their positions from earlier. 

Dean resumes stroking his hair and Jimmy looks up at him. “Where have you been all my life, Dean?” Dean smiles and chuckles lightly at the cheesy line but leans down a bit to give Jimmy a kiss. 

“South Dakota… and before that, Kansas.” Jimmy chuckles as well, returning Dean’s kiss with enthusiasm before pulling back and laying his head back down on Dean’s chest. 

“We’re going to see each other again, right?” Jimmy sounds a bit timid and Dean feels his heart clench a bit, but this is Dean Winchester and it wouldn’t be right to answer a serious question with anything except levity. 

“Well, unless you plan on firing me before I even start working, I expect we’ll be seeing each other quite often.”

Jimmy lifts his head to look back up to Dean’s face. “You know what I mean.” Dean finds it hard to keep the man’s gaze – he thinks he could get lost in those eyes if he’s not careful. 

“Yeah, of course, Jimmy. Of course we’ll see each other again. Like you could ever get enough of this…” Dean gestures to himself and gives Jimmy a cocky smirk and a wink, and Jimmy scoffs and lays his head back down again, the fingers of his hand ghosting patterns over the skin of Dean’s chest. 

“When?” It’s spoken softly but Dean hears him, softly stroking Jimmy’s hair while he contemplates his answer. 

“Well, I’m meeting my brother for lunch and then I’ve got plans with Charlie tonight…”

“Who’s Charlie?” Jimmy’s head snaps back up again, surprising Dean by the quickness of the motion and the sudden steel in his blue eyes. 

“Charlie is a friend of mine… a very lesbian friend of mine.” 

Jimmy mutters a quick, “Oh,” and returns to his previous position so Dean continues.

“I’m free tomorrow…” 

“Can’t tomorrow… every Sunday my brothers and I get together with our father for a family dinner.” He sounds disgruntled at this admission and Dean wonders if it’s just that he’s disappointed about not seeing Dean or if there’s something going on there with his family. He figures it’s really none of his business though so he lets it go without comment.

“Ok, well, Mondays are really busy for me at the shop. I figure I’ll start at Novak on Tuesday…” 

“Why don’t you let me take you out to dinner on Tuesday evening? We can celebrate!” Jimmy sits up completely, looking at Dean with a huge smile. 

“I thought drinks last night was to celebrate?” Jimmy just waves this away, bouncing a bit while he responds.

“That was to celebrate getting the job… _this_ will be to celebrate your first day!” He looks pleadingly at Dean, going so far as to bust out some truly epic puppy eyes and Dean knows that he’s lost – not that dinner with the good chance of great sex after is any hardship, but Dean wonders if he’ll ever be able to say ‘no’ to the man in the future. 

“Fine. But nothing too fancy! Just give me a good burger and I’m a happy man.” 

“Perfect! I love burgers! I know the best place.” That dazzling smile is still plastered on Jimmy’s face and Dean can’t help but sit up as well, bringing their lips together in a slow, languid kiss. 

“Alright, it’s a date.” Dean winks and Jimmy just smiles, and then Dean is turning around and placing his feet on the floor. “I’d better get going. I’m meeting Sam at noon and I need to go home and shower and change before then.” 

Jimmy crawls up behind Dean and starts kissing his neck, his hands snaking around to caress his chest and pinch lightly on his nipples. “You could shower here… with me…” 

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Dean shakes his head slightly but doesn’t object when Jimmy trails his hand down Dean’s chest, landing on his already hardening cock and stroking slowly. 

“Challenge accepted.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sammy!” Dean grins hugely as he slides into the booth across from his very big, little brother. The jovial greeting has Sam’s passive demeanor quickly morphing into the hardened look of a looming menace, patented bitchface firmly in place. 

“What did you do, Dean?” Dean orders a cup of coffee and a burger and fries from the server who comes up to take their order, Sam ordering a salad with grilled chicken and a glass of water. 

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to consume a little cholesterol every once in a while, Sam.” He takes a sip of the coffee, deeming it too bitter, so he adds one sugar packet and a splash of cream before he takes another. 

“Don’t try to change the subject, Dean. I know that look. Whatever you did, just tell me.” 

Dean sighs and rubs a hand down his face before returning to cradle the coffee cup in both hands. Sam’s right, he’s going to have to tell him – he might as well get it over with before the food comes. 

“I got the job…” He figures he’ll start with the part that he knows Sam will like, maybe it will soften the blow of the news that he’s fucking the boss. 

“That’s great, Dean! I knew you could do it!” Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s ‘proud father’ act – he really doesn’t appreciate the hint of condescension in his brother’s tone. “But wait, that can’t be all you have to tell me, is it?”

He’s back to looking stern again and Dean stifles the urge to tell him to fuck off – it’s not like he killed someone, he was just getting to know his new co-worker a little better, right? 

“I, uh… sorta spent the night with the new boss.” Sam’s eyes bug out of his head and his jaw drops open for a second before his brain kicks back on and he’s staring at Dean incredulously. 

“You fucked Castiel?!” People in the surrounding booths and tables whip their heads around to stare openly at the brothers but Sam doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Calm the fuck down, Sam,” he says in hushed tones. “And no, it wasn’t Castiel. He was busy yesterday so he sent Jimmy to interview me instead. It was him.” 

Sam does visibly calm at that but the worried look doesn’t leave his face. “Well, I guess I can believe that. But Dean, don’t you think it’s going to put a strain on the working environment when this, whatever this is, inevitably crashes and burns?”

“Gee, thanks for your high opinion of me and my relationships, Sam.” The server is back with their orders and Dean winks at her before she leaves and then takes the bun off his burger to add onions and ketchup. 

“Dean, that’s not… you know what I mean, Dean. Aren’t you the one who always says ‘Don’t shit where you eat’? You’ve always been against workplace romances before.”

“Well… this guy is different,” Dean says around a mouthful of burger. “And besides, I doubt this job will even end up working out. When it ‘inevitably crashes and burns’ as you so eloquently put it, I’ll just quit and go back to the shop full time. No big deal.” 

“I hate to see you going into this with that sort of attitude, Dean. You should try to be a little more optimistic.” Dean shoves a few fries in his mouth, wondering what kind of pie they’ve got today – he could really go for a slice of pumpkin, but they don’t always have it this early in the fall. 

“Enough with the chick-flick moment, Sam. I’m fine, everything’s fine. Why don’t we talk about you? What’s new… did someone nab the last of the organic kale at the grocery store again? I know how much you hate that.”

Sam sighs and says, “Fine, I’ll drop it. But if you ever need someone to talk to, you know you can come to me… right?” 

“Sure thing, Sammy.” He rolls his eyes again but he secretly loves when Sam tells him this. He never does talk to Sam about feelings or shit like that but it’s actually kind of nice to know that he has that option if he ever needs it.

Sam takes a bite of his salad and finishes chewing before speaking again. “Actually… there is something new with me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah… I’ve got a date tonight.” There’s a slight blush on the man’s face as he ducks his head to take another bite of salad. 

“Sammy, you dog! Who’s the lucky girl?” He leans back in the booth, throwing one arm over the back and grinning at Sam’s obvious discomfort.

“Her name is Sarah Blake. She’s an accountant at Novak. She works directly under the CFO so she’s usually at a different building but we met when she came to meet with Castiel last week and we really hit it off. We’re going out for dinner tonight.” He looks like a kid describing his favorite gift that he got for Christmas and Dean can’t help being happy for him. His brother is such a good person and he really deserves someone who will make him happy.

“Well, look at that! We’re both going to be getting a little inter-office nookie pretty soon. Hey, we should act as each other’s lookouts when we go for quickies in the supply closet. What do you say, Sam?” Dean grins even wider when the bitchface returns to Sam’s expression – teasing his baby brother is his favorite pastime after all. 

“Very funny, Dean. But seriously though, make sure that you watch out for Castiel – Jimmy may be a fun-loving guy but Cas is his boss, as well as yours, and he’s also a very protective brother. If you do anything to hurt his brother or his company, you’ll be out on your ass before you can blink.” 

“I consider myself warned, Sam.” Dean orders a slice of pie to go when the server comes back to ask if there’s anything else she can get them. She’s back very quickly with the pie and their check as well. They get up and go to pay and then they find themselves in the parking lot, Dean standing next to the Impala as Sam goes to get into his own fuel-saving economy car. “Hey, call me tomorrow to tell me all about your date! And spare none of the porny details, Bitch!” 

Sam shoots him a glare that just makes Dean laugh, and says, “Gross, Jerk,” before they both get into their cars and drive away.


	3. Chapter 3

“I think I’m in love!” Those are the first words out of Jimmy’s mouth as he gets into the passenger side of Castiel’s car. The two usually carpool to their father’s house in Pontiac on Sundays. It takes almost two hours to get there from Chicago so it only makes sense. 

“You’re always in love, Jimmy. Who is it this time?” He has a sinking feeling that he knows just who Jimmy is going to name – his brother is well known for indulging in an office romance every now and again, but Dean Winchester hasn’t even starting working at Novak yet. Maybe it isn’t Dean. Maybe Jimmy went out last night and met someone? 

“Cas, I can’t wait for you to meet him! If you thought Sam was good looking… your eyes are going to bug out of your head when you see his brother! He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life! And the sex… Holy shit! I swear, his dick is some sort of magic wand and he wields that thing like-“

“Jesus, Jimmy!” Castiel takes his eyes off the road for a moment to look incredulously at his twin. “You’ve barely just met the man and you’re already talking about his… his…” 

“Dick, Cas. His dick. Which is spectacular, by the way. The way he poun-“

“Jimmy, please. You were supposed to hire him to be our new mechanic, not to be your next conquest. Did you even get around to offering him the position?” Castiel glances over and sees his brother smirk.

“Oh, I offered him all _sorts_ of positions, Cas.” He accompanies this statement with an exaggerated eye-brow waggle and Castiel just rolls his eyes and sigh exasperatingly. 

“You know what I mean, Jimmy. Do we have a new mechanic or not?” Jimmy sighs as well – he always does so when he thinks that Castiel isn’t being ‘fun’, whatever that means.

“Yes. We have a new mechanic.” Jimmy pulls out his phone and starts tapping at the screen. “And he’s not just my ‘next conquest’, as you put it; I think there may really be something there. Not only is he handsome and charming and really great in the sack…” Castiel sighs again. “… But he’s also sweet and thoughtful and he’s got a great sense of humor. I really can’t wait for you to meet him. Even you won’t be immune to his charms, I’m sure of it.” 

Castiel throws a skeptical look Jimmy’s way. He loves his brother and he wants more than anything for Jimmy to be happy. And if this Dean person makes Jimmy happy, then he supposes he should try to be happy for them. But he can’t help the cold sense of foreboding that he feels in the pit of his stomach right now. Though maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with Jimmy and Dean… Maybe it has more to do with the fact that they’re on their way to what is sure to be another tense, uncomfortable family dinner with their father and their brothers. 

They always get together for Sunday dinner, and it almost always ends in some sort of confrontation – usually between their two eldest brothers, Lucifer and Michael. Lucifer is the firstborn, but you might not realize that by his position in the company, and in the family dynamic. 

Their father was married to Lucifer’s mother first, but when she died suddenly when Lucifer was only four, their father (Charles Novak – known as Chuck by most people) was quick to remarry. His new wife gave birth to Michael less than a year later and as soon as she could, she made Chuck ship Lucifer off to boarding school. She said that she didn’t trust the boy, though just why Castiel never could understand. So instead of growing up at home with Michael, Gabriel, Castiel, and Jimmy, Lucifer only spent holidays with the family. 

This, understandably, caused quite a bit of animosity between Lucifer and the rest of them – even when Castiel’s mother died ten years ago, the familial relations didn’t really improve much. But the final nail in the coffin was when their father decided to step down as the CEO of Novak Enterprises – he named Michael, the second son, his successor instead of Lucifer. He appointed Lucifer the president of Novak Steel instead and Lucifer still holds quite the grudge. Castiel can’t say that he really blames him, but if that is what his father decided to do, well then he supposes that he must have had a good reason to do so. 

Looking over again at Jimmy, who’s still tapping away at his phone with a huge smile on his face (Castiel thinks he might be texting with someone – probably Dean, if he had to hazard guess), Castiel wonders if he’d feel the same way if he had been appointed Vice President instead of President of Novak Construction. Jimmy is the second born twin, albeit by only twenty seven minutes, but in their case there’s more to it than that. Castiel is more focused, more serious and business-minded than Jimmy, so it only seems right that he holds the position of higher power in the company. 

But he wonders if Jimmy would have risen to the challenge if it had been placed upon his shoulders, metaphorically speaking, or if Castiel himself would have held a grudge against him because of it. He supposes that it doesn’t really matter – they are where they are in the hierarchy and nothing short of an apocalyptic catastrophe will change that. Besides, Castiel and Jimmy are as close as two brothers can be. He doesn’t imagine anything could ever come between them. 

“Who are you texting?” He already knows what Jimmy’s answer will be and he isn’t disappointed. 

“Dean.” He gives Castiel a warm smile that Castiel can’t help but return, even if he is still wary of this new development. “He told me to tell you to make sure that you get my ‘fine ass’ back to the city in one piece. He says he doesn’t trust anyone’s driving except his own.” 

“Is that so?” Castiel asks. “Well, tell Mr. Magic-Wand-Penis that I’ve been driving your ass, fine or otherwise, around for seventeen years, and I’ve never gotten as much as a speeding ticket. Can he say the same?” 

Jimmy chuckles and says, “I’ll ask him, but I doubt it. He’s fast in all senses of the word so I sincerely doubt that he doesn’t have a few driving infractions under his belt. Possibly even some other run-ins with the law… wouldn’t really surprise me.” He’s looking back at his phone again so he doesn’t see the worried look that Castiel throws his way. This new example of Dean’s character doesn’t exactly fill him with confidence for Jimmy’s future well-being. His brother has always been a bit naïve, a bit too willing to throw his heart on offer before really knowing what he’s in for. 

Castiel hopes that he isn’t wrong in just letting this situation play out however it will. He guesses that he’ll just have to wait and see what happens. He throws one last glance Jimmy’s way and sees that his brother is happily typing away, a smile on his face and metaphorical hearts in his eyes, and Castiel thinks to himself… _What’s the worst that can happen?_

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it happens, Castiel spends the following week in Italy, working out a deal for a new marble supplier. Because of this, he isn’t there for Dean’s first few days of work at Novak and Jimmy’s hopes of his brother getting to meet his new boyfriend fall by the wayside. Jimmy pouts but Castiel argues that if Dean is still Jimmy’s boyfriend by the time Castiel gets back then what does he really have to worry about? Jimmy responds that Castiel could leave for a month and Dean would still be his boyfriend when Castiel got back, but Castiel just smiles at Jimmy’s confidence, even though his brother can’t see it over the phone. 

“I’m going to be pretty busy during the first part of the week when I get back, but maybe we could get together on Friday or something? Things should calm down by then.” Jimmy agrees with enthusiasm and Castiel ends the call with the hope that Jimmy hasn’t been arrested or managed to trade the company in an ill-fated hand of poker before Castiel gets back to the States. 

His trip goes well, a contract with a new marble supplier is accomplished, and the company is exactly where and how he left it come Tuesday morning when Castiel finds himself sipping coffee with cinnamon, as he looks out his office window down to the courtyard where the workers like to take their breaks when they’re on site and it’s a nice day out. 

It’s late September so the weather is perfect, as far as Castiel is concerned. It’s often dry and the days are warm when the sun is out, but the smell of autumn is in the air and a crisp breeze comes through often enough to make it comfortable. Castiel loves this time of year, the weather, the comforting smells of pumpkin and spice that waft out of every coffee shop and bakery. It reminds him of holidays spent at home with his family. And even though he misses his mother something awful, this time of year always brings him comfort to remember the good times that he had with her. 

A gleam of metal catches Castel’s eye and his gaze is drawn to one of the picnic tables where two men are drinking coffee and conversing. Castiel recognizes one of them as Benny Lafitte, one of Novak’s general contractors. But he doesn’t recognize the other man. Novak Construction is a fairly large company so this isn’t really a surprise in and of itself, but Castiel is sure that if he’d seen this man before, he would have remembered him. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, a beautifully trim waist leading down to a charming set of slightly bowed legs that Castiel imagines would fit perfectly wrapped around his own waist. 

And his face! The man throws his head back and laughs. He can’t see him perfectly from this distance but from what he can tell, Castiel thinks this man is utterly gorgeous, and his perfect smile has Castiel automatically smiling as well. He doesn’t remember the last time that he’d had this kind of response to a complete stranger. 

The gleam of metal that Castiel had seen appears to have come from a ring that the man is wearing – but it’s on his right hand, not his left, so Castiel has hope that the man is single. Though how he could be, looking like that, Castiel doesn’t really want to consider. He wants this man. He’s never before simply set eyes upon someone and felt this sort of visceral reaction, but it’s happening now. 

Quite clearly, he can imagine this man in his bed, laid out before him, a sweating, moaning mess as Castiel breathes encouragement to him while he works himself in and out of the man’s body, reducing them both to their most base and primal selves. Castiel’s cock twitches at the thought and he’s abruptly brought out of his fantasy by a quick knock on his office door. He almost spills his coffee as he jerks around to see Meg, his personal assistant walking swiftly through the door and up to his desk. 

She gives him the rundown of his schedule for the day and by the time she’s done and left the room again, Castiel’s mystery man is gone. The courtyard is empty, nothing more than a few dry leaves blowing in the wind. 

He sighs to himself and takes another sip of his coffee. It has gone cold by now, which figures. He wants nothing more than to race down to the courtyard and try to find the handsome stranger and beg the man to give him the time of day – run away with him, quickie in the office, Castiel’s not picky – but he knows that he can’t. 

It’s unseemly – it’s the sort of thing that Jimmy would do, and for the first time Castiel wonders if this is how Jimmy felt when he first met Dean? Castiel can understand how Jimmy could think he was in love with the man after only two days of knowing him if he’s anything like this man. Castiel hasn’t even met this mystery worker and already he’s contemplating where they should register for their wedding. 

Jesus, he needs to get a grip on himself, and quickly. He’s just a beautiful stranger – the man could be dull or abusive, or God forbid, straight. Castiel doesn’t know anything about him and he’ll do well to remember that. 

But his heart is still thrumming and there’s still a gut-deep feeling of _want_ coursing through his body that he just can’t ignore. He thinks maybe he’ll spend the next few days observing the man and trying to figure out a way to ingratiate himself to him without coming off as creepy or desperate. It may take some time and effort, but Castiel is nothing if not dedicated. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Castiel frequently looks down on the courtyard during the course of the day but the mystery man doesn’t return. He hopes he’ll have better luck the next day but Castiel doesn’t see the man at all on Wednesday. Finally on Thursday the man is back, drinking coffee (by himself this time), so Castiel hastens to make his way through the building and outside. But by the time he reaches the courtyard, the man has once again disappeared and a quick survey of the surrounding buildings turns up nothing. No one he asks seems to know who he’s talking about and Castiel is starting to wonder if he’d imagined him, after all. 

He returns to his office but keeps an eye on the courtyard throughout the rest of the day, finally giving up once again when five o’clock rolls around. He pulls on his overcoat and grabs his briefcase, turning to look out over the courtyard wistfully one last time before he clicks off the lights and heads home.

On Friday morning, Castiel doesn’t hold out much hope of seeing his mystery man but he’s pleasantly surprised when the man is there, sitting on top of one of the picnic tables with a cup of coffee, eyes closed and head turned up toward the sky so that the sun is warming his beautiful face. Castiel smiles, determined to finally find out the name of his mystery man, but before he can move to leave, a very familiar figure enters the courtyard.

Jimmy is smiling as he says something that catches the man’s attention and then he strides right up to the picnic table and situates himself between the man’s legs, leaning forward to place a lingering kiss to those perfect lips. 

Castiel’s stomach drops and his world seems to come crashing down around him. His mystery man, the person that Castiel has been thinking and dreaming about all week… it’s Dean. Now that he knows, he can’t believe that he hadn’t figured it out before. He curses himself for his stupidity as he watches his brother swap spit with the man of his dreams. 

Suddenly he feels as if he must leave. He can’t stand to be here a moment longer so he collects his things and heads out the door, telling a very surprised Meg to reschedule any appointments that can’t be passed off to Jimmy and that he’ll be gone for the rest of the day. He tells her that he isn’t feeling well, which is actually the truth, his stomach is in knots and he’s even feeling a bit light-headed. He sends Jimmy a succinct text message informing him of what he had just told Meg, and then he’s out of the building and in his car, ignoring the pinging response from his twin. 

He can’t stand to read the message from his brother right now. The feelings of disappointment and jealousy, once completely foreign in regards to Jimmy, are drowning him in guilt and he needs to find a distraction to take his mind off of everything. 

He drives home and parks but doesn’t go straight up to his condo. Instead he heads to the corner liquor store and buys several bottles of different kinds of alcohol. He isn’t much of a drinker – he has quite a high tolerance so he doesn’t usually bother – so he buys a variety, not sure what he’ll like or what will work to get him completely shit-faced. The gruff man behind the counter gives him a funny look, but Castiel just pays and says nothing before grabbing his purchases and setting off for home. 

He knows that drinking to avoid his problems is ill-advised, at best, but he thinks if there was ever an occasion to get thoroughly stinking drunk, having a gigantic, life-altering crush on your identical twin’s boyfriend is probably the correct one. 

Castiel enters his condo and sets his bags of bottles down on the kitchen island before kicking off his shoes and dragging off his overcoat and suit coat, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt for good measure. He pulls a bottle out at random, not even looking to see what it is and proceeds to drink himself into oblivion. Maybe tomorrow his problems will all have magically disappeared, but for now he aims to forget he has any problems to begin with.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the super long time between posting. I've been dealing with heath issues and writer's block. Both situations have now improved so hopefully I'll be better about updating more often. Thanks for sticking with me!

Castiel wakes to the sound of incessant hammering. Three incredibly loud staccato beats that have him groaning and clutching his head with both hands. The bursts come again, and then a third time, and Castiel finally realizes that the pounding isn’t only just inside his sore head, but is, in-fact, the sound of knocking coming from his front door. 

“Just a minute!” Castiel takes a few moments to take in his surroundings. He’s lying face-down on the couch and there’s a mostly empty bottle of tequila on the floor next to his head, some of its contents soaked into the rug. The television is on but nothing is playing – the Netflix home page sitting silent on the screen. 

He sits up and turns off the t.v., then grabs his cell phone off the coffee table and sees that he has five missed calls and three voicemails from Jimmy. 

“Damn it,” he says to himself. Chances are that the person knocking on his door is his twin, and he’s definitely not ready to face him right now. He’d managed to drink away the guilt and the shame that he had felt last night but now in the (very bright) light of day it’s all come back two-fold – add to that the atrocious hangover headache and he doesn’t even know where to start explaining to his brother what the problem is. 

_Bang… bang… bang_

“I said hold on!” _Shit._ Well, there’s nothing for it. He’s going to have to think of something, and fast. Standing up he immediately sways on his feet. He’s not sure if the dizziness is part of the hangover or if he’s maybe still a little bit drunk. 

Putting a hand out, he catches himself on the arm of the couch, steadying himself and looking down. His pants start to slide down his hips and he realizes that his fly is wide open. Sliding his hand down the front of his shirt, Castiel encounters a stiff, discolored spot and tentatively drags the shirt up to his nose to smell it. He cringes when he does so, the unmistakable scent of his own dried come intensifying the feeling of shame that’s swirling within him. 

Lacking the time to change his clothes he just tucks his shirt in and does up the closure of his pants, thankfully covering the incriminating stain, before heading toward the foyer and the incessant knocking. It’s started up again, but instead of three intermittent bangs there’s now a steady stream of monotonous pounding. 

“Jesus! I’m coming, alright?!” Castiel unlocks the door and swings it open forcefully. 

“Hey, Bro… Well, don’t you look like stomped over shit?” Castiel spares only a couple of seconds to take in his brother’s smirking face before sighing loudly, turning on his heel, and shuffling toward his kitchen.

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?” Castiel is irked at his brother for showing up like this, but secretly he’s actually glad that it’s Gabriel and not Jimmy – at least he’ll have some time to get himself cleaned up and think of what he’s going to say to his twin. 

Castiel goes to make a pot of coffee, but suddenly remembering the state in which he’d woken up, he veers toward the sink to wash his hands first. He then fills the carafe with water and pours it into the machine. 

He’s just about to put in the filter and fill it with grounds when the sound of his own voice, albeit slurred and distraught-sounding but definitely still his voice, comes from behind him and he whirls to see Gabriel holding out his own cell phone – apparently drunk Cas decided to call his brother and leave a voicemail. But… as he listens, it’s clear that Gabriel was not the intended recipient… 

_"… so sorry, Jimmy. Don’t want to hurt you… God, but you were right! He’s just so beautiful, I can’t even think of anything else. The things I want to do to him, Jimmy…”_

Castiel feels the blood drain from his face and sprints to the living room to scoop up his phone, quickly scrolling through the recent calls to make sure that he hadn’t also gotten through to Jimmy last night. He only sees missed calls from his twin though so he clicks over to his text messages to check those too. There are a couple from Jimmy – _Are you ok?... I hope you feel better… Call me when you can, Cas. I’m worried about you._ – but thankfully there aren’t any outgoing. 

He breathes a sigh of relief and scrubs a hand over his face before turning around to look at Gabriel, who has followed him into the room. “Can we just forget that this happened and never mention it again?” 

“No way, Cas.” And then looking around at the liquor bottles and various other mess strewn throughout the room, “What the fuck happened, man?” 

“I imagine if you’ve listened to that voicemail then you already know the answer to that question.” Giving in to the inevitable conversation, Castiel slumps down onto the couch and leans his head on the backrest, face up to the ceiling. 

“Not really, no,” says Gabriel, perching on the edge of the coffee table. “I mean, it’s obvious that you drunk-dialed me thinking it was Jimmy, and you went on and on about doing unspeakable things to some guy named Dean. But I don’t understand why you felt the need to get hammered to do so, or why you kept apologizing to Jimmy about it.” Castiel shifts his gaze to his brother’s face and sees him looking thoughtful for a moment before, “Wait… Dean? Isn’t the name of the guy that Jimmy’s seeing named Dean? Oh my god! Cas… did you bang Jimmy’s boyfriend?” Gabriel looks incredulous, but he also looks positively gleeful at the prospect. 

“No!” Castiel goes for indignant but can’t quite pull it off – the feeling of guilt caused by the bone-deep want that he feels for Dean making at least some of his shameful feelings clear. 

“But you want to… don’t you?” Castiel groans a bit and leans forward to place his elbows on his knees, his hands coming up to hide his face. “ _Yeah_ , you do.” 

“Gabriel, please…” 

“What? It’s not like it would be a first for this family. Cheating and deception is just par-for-the-course for us. Remember that time when Michel brought his college sweetheart home for the holidays and she ended up leaving with Luci instead? Our life is practically a Greek tragedy!” Castiel knows that there’s truth in what he says, but it’s never been that way with the twins. 

“It’s not like that between Jimmy and me, it never has been. I can’t let that change now… I can’t hurt him like that, Gabe.” Gabriel’s excited countenance turns solemn as he takes in Castiel’s slumped posture and dejected expression. 

“Well, little brother, if you’re not going to uphold the family tradition…” Castiel glares at Gabriel. “… then I suggest you remove yourself from the situation. Get out of town for a while.” Actually, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. “Besides, knowing Jimmy’s propensity to love ‘em and leave ‘em, by the time you get back he’ll probably have already moved on to his next victim. Then either you’ll have cooled off on your infatuation or Dean will be available and you can give him a go!” 

A hopeful excitement begins to stir in Castiel’s gut but he tries to tamp it down immediately. It won’t do him any good to get his hopes up prematurely, and besides, what kind of person does it make him if he actively wishes for his brother’s relationship to fail? But he can surely use avoidance and denial to the best of his ability for the immediate future. 

“Michael _has_ been nagging me to take an extended trip overseas, I suppose now is as good a time as ever.” His trip to Italy had just been a milk run compared to what Michael has in mind. He’s had his feelers out for potential suppliers on three different continents and he wants Cas to do the leg work. He said that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving the helm for such an extended period of time but that he trusts Castiel to get the job done quickly and efficiently in his stead. 

“Excellent! Why don’t you give old Mikey a ring and I’ll whip us up some breakfast?” He doesn’t bother waiting for Castiel to answer; instead he just nods his head imperiously and skips off to the kitchen, leaving Cas to make the call. 

Fifteen minutes later Castiel joins his brother in the kitchen, having hammered out a tentative plan with Michael, including a promise to have his personal assistant email a detailed itinerary to Castiel within the hour. 

“All squared away?” Gabriel asks. Castiel nods but doesn’t respond vocally. The smell of coffee and pancakes further helps to lift Castiel’s spirits and he moves to take a mug from the cupboard and pour himself a cup of coffee. Adding a sprinkle of cinnamon and inhaling the spicy aroma also assists in calming Cas’s turbulent thoughts. 

Mug in hand, Castiel takes a seat on one of the high-backed stools at the kitchen island, sipping the fragrant brew as he does so. Gabriel follows, placing two plates stacked high with fluffy, golden-brown pancakes down on the counter. The spongy perfection is already slathered in butter so Castiel drizzles some maple syrup on top before cutting them up and scooping a forkful into his mouth. The sweetness of the syrup and the salty richness of the butter combines to create the perfect bite and Castiel closes his eyes for a moment to savor the flavor. 

When he opens his eyes he catches Gabriel’s smug look before he proceeds to drown his own pancakes in the sticky syrup. Castiel doesn’t bother complimenting his brother on the delicious breakfast. They both know that everything that Gabriel cooks (or bakes) is mouthwatering, so Castiel just rolls his eyes and takes another bite of the yummy stack. 

Gabriel may talk a lot about their family’s tendency for interpersonal drama, but his own contributions actually tend toward rebellion and avoidance rather than aggressive confrontations. 

At eighteen, rather than attend business school and participate in an internship within Novak Enterprises like his two older brothers, Gabriel had chosen instead to attend culinary school. It had caused arguments and accusations of disloyalty, but Gabriel had held firm to his convictions and with the support of their mother, he had succeeded in eventually opening his own restaurant and starting a successful catering business. In the end it had worked out well for the family and their company anyway because now Gabriel is able to provide food service for all of Novak’s offices and functions, thus keeping his interests, at least partially, wrapped up in the family business. 

By the time they’re mostly done with their meal, the sugar and the caffeine have done wonders to help cure Castiel’s hangover. He tries to forget his overreaction of last night and instead attempts to focus on mental preparations for his trip. It has the potential to be quite lucrative for the company, and if the time away helps Castiel to gain a bit of perspective on the situation with Jimmy and Dean, well then all the better for everyone. 

As if summoned by mere thought, Castiel feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and he pulls it out to see that Jimmy is calling. Feeling more prepared to face his twin now that he has a plan of action, Castiel hits ‘accept.’

“Hello, Jimmy.” Castiel lets his gaze fall on Gabriel and sees that his brother is watching him with a speculative look on his face. 

“ _Cas! You’re alive!_ ” Castiel rolls his eyes even though Jimmy can’t see it. 

“Of course I’m alive, Jimmy.” Speaking to his brother now, Castiel can’t believe he’d made such a fuss about everything in the first place. This is his twin, the person he shared a womb with… the person that he’s shared almost everything with all his life. How could he think that one handsome stranger could ever come between them?

“ _Is he alright?_ ” All at once, Castiel feels the stack of pancakes that he just ate suddenly sitting heavy as a lump of lead in his stomach when he hears the unfamiliar voice speak in the background on the other end of the line. It’s Dean, it has to be – his voice soft, but husky, sounding sleepy or possibly sex-roughened. The idea hits Castiel like a punch in the gut, and he can feel the blood draining from his face. Gabriel’s expression shifts into one of concern and he raises one eyebrow in a silent request for information.

“ _I don’t know yet, Dean, I was just getting to that part._ ” Then a little louder and more directly into the phone, “ _Are you ok, Cas? You wouldn’t answer any of my calls or texts yesterday. Dean kept trying to talk me into busting down your door last night to make sure you were still breathing. What happened?_ ” The thought of Dean showing up during Castiel’s evening of booze-fueled self-hatred/indulgence has him cringing and thanking God for small mercies. 

Licking his suddenly very dry lips, Castiel shakes his head minutely in Gabriel’s direction before clearing his throat. 

“I was ill.” His voice sounds shaky and unsure, even to his own ears. The look of skepticism on Gabriel’s face is enough to assure him just how untrue that statement had sounded.

“ _You were ill? Cas, you don’t get ‘ill.’ I don’t think you’ve ever even taken a sick day._ ”

Castiel steels himself to sound convincing. He can’t recall ever purposefully lying to his twin, at least not as an adult. Their honest and open relationship has always been the exception in their otherwise dishonest family dynamic. 

“Well, I was ill yesterday. It was probably something that I ate. I’ll have to tell Gabriel to check the food safety in the employee cafeteria.” Gabriel lets out a high-pitched squawk across the counter and Castiel shushes him with a frantic hand gesture. 

“ _Dean and I ate in the cafeteria yesterday and we feel fine. Right, Dean? You feel fine, don’t you?_ ” Castiel can’t help but notice the flirty intonation in his brother’s voice, along with the slight rustle of fabric and Dean’s responding, “ _Oh yeah, Jimmy… very fine._ ”

He makes a conscious effort to relax his jaw, as well as the death grip that he has on his butter knife, when Gabriel snaps his fingers in front of Castiel’s face and mouths out, “ _Breathe…_ ” He takes his brother’s advice and takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly before responding to Jimmy.

“Well, regardless… I’m better now—“

“ _That’s great, Cas!_ ” Jimmy interrupts. “ _That means you can come out to dinner with us tonight! Dean’s brother is going to be there with his girlfriend too. We’re going to Gabe’s new place._ ” Castiel grits his teeth and tries not to scream, or throw his phone across the room – The thought of being the fifth wheel on a double date with Dean and Jimmy sounds downright horrifying. 

“On second thought, Jimmy, I’m still feeling a bit sick to my stomach. It’s probably best if I just stay home.” 

“ _Oh. Well, that’s ok, Cas… There’s always tomorrow, I suppose. Brunch, maybe?_ ” Castiel feels bad to be putting Jimmy off like this but it really is for the best. He doesn’t trust himself around Dean – not with the way he’s reacted so far, at least. 

“Actually, Jimmy, there’s something that I need to tell you… I’ve decided to accept that assignment that Michael has been wanting me to take for quite some time now. The extended overseas trip… I’m leaving tomorrow.” Castiel holds his breath as he waits for a response from his twin. Gabriel’s attention is still rapt, watching Castiel converse like it’s the Derby and he’s got money on Cas to win. Though it’s more likely that he expects that Cas will end up breaking a leg and have to be put down – a mixture of disbelieving hope and bemused resignation just about covers it. 

“ _Hm. Ok. Well, I guess there’s not much else to say, then. How long will you be gone?_ ” The bitter disappointment is quite clear in Jimmy’s voice and it burns in Castiel’s chest to hear it. He closes his eyes and sighs as he tries to pull himself together enough to sound reassuring. 

“Only about a month.” He hears Jimmy scoff under his breath. “I’ll have Meg reschedule anything that can be postponed until I return. For everything else, I’ll make sure she coordinates with Inias to keep your schedule up to date. I’ll call Crowley myself and put him off until I get back.” Meg and Jimmy’s PA, Inias, don’t get along very well so Castiel makes a mental note to remind Meg to play nice while he’s gone. 

“ _Don’t do me any favors, Castiel. I’m perfectly capable of running the company while you’re off schmoozing exotic businessmen all over the globe. And I can handle Crowley just fine too._ ” 

Castiel could remind Jimmy of his very different opinion regarding Crowley that he had expressed only two weeks ago, but he doesn’t think that antagonizing his brother will help matters. As it is, Jimmy is already referring to Castiel by his full name – something he only does when he’s genuinely upset. 

“Jimmy—”

“ _No, it’s fine. If there’s anything else that I need to know, just leave a message with Inias._ ”

“Ok…” Castiel glances at his phone’s screen only to see that Jimmy has unceremoniously ended the call. “Shit. He hung up on me.”

Gabriel collects their empty plates and brings them to the sink, flashing a knowing smirk over his shoulder. “Hey, that’s not so bad. At least he didn’t call you ‘Castiel.’” The smirk morphs into a grimace when Castiel doesn’t respond – simply dropping his head into his hands and groaning quietly. “Take heart, baby bro. You know that Jimmy can’t stay mad at you. When you come back he’ll be waiting with open arms. Our dear brother may be a bit of a drama queen, but he isn’t one to hold a grudge. He’ll get over it.” 

“I know Gabe, it’s just… I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I just want to be able to go about my day like usual. But everywhere I turn there’s Dean – he’s at work, his voice is in the background on the phone, every other word out of Jimmy’s mouth is ‘Dean.’ I’ve never even spoken to the man but he’s been at the forefront of my mind for days!” Castiel can feel a slight hysteria rising in him but there’s nothing he can do to stop it coming. “It’s like he’s my own personal demon, come straight from Hell to torment me and ruin my relationship with my brother!”

“Now who’s being dramatic?” 

Any relief that Castiel had been experiencing from the caffeine and sugar is now gone – his head is pounding again and he just want to lie down and sleep for a week. As a compromise he slumps his head down miserably onto his folded arms on the countertop. Not to be deterred by Cas’s apparent lack of continued interest in the conversation, Gabriel places a refilled coffee mug down by Castiel’s elbow and proceeds to give advice. 

“Look, this situation is unprecedented and I’m not gonna sugar-coat it… your reactions have been super weird, even for you, Cas. But for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing here. Take some time, and some space – think about it. Things will be better when you get back.” 

“Thank you, Gabriel. Just having someone to talk to about this does seem to be helping. You’re probably right – I just need some time away to sort it all out.” 

“There you go!” Gabriel claps him on the shoulder as he gets up and heads toward the front door to leave. “And hey, if it doesn’t work… at least you two can usurp Mike and Luci as the reigning kings of ‘fucked-up Novak brother relationships’!” 

With a wink and a smirk, Gabriel leaves the condo, and Castiel just thumps his head back down on the cool granite. It’s going to be a long month.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man, five chapters in and Dean and Cas are finally 'meeting.' What is wrong with me? I'm surprised anyone has stuck it out this far. Maybe I should think about adding that 'slow build' or 'slow burn' tag? Yeah, I should probably look into that.
> 
> Anyway, Dean and Cas: words are exchanged and awkwardness ensues... enjoy!

“A month! He’s going to be gone for a whole month!” Dean narrowly avoids being hit in the head by the cell phone that is flung down onto his bed. A few minutes ago Jimmy had abruptly removed himself from said bed, and Dean’s arms, to pace the room (naked) while he concluded the conversation with his brother. He’s clearly upset – has been ever since he’d received a text from his twin yesterday saying that he wasn’t feeling well and that he had to cancel their ‘meet the family’ dinner last night. 

Jimmy had really been looking forward to Dean meeting Castiel, so much so that it had been practically all Jimmy had talked about all week. And the way that he had spoken of his twin made it obvious that he really idolized the guy. Jimmy’s opinion of his brother was so high that Dean had honestly been a little relived when he hadn’t been able to make it – Dean didn’t know if his usual method of charming the pants off people to get in their good books would be appropriate, or effective, when dealing with a guy who’s reputation touted him as living up to the saintly renown of an actual angel like his name would suggest… at least according to his adoring brother. 

“Jimmy, baby, come get back in bed and tell me about it.” He places the cell phone projectile onto the nightstand and lifts the edge of the comforter, patting the spot next to him on the mattress. Jimmy huffs and seems to consider it for a moment, but Dean’s pleading look eventually wins out and Jimmy slides back into the spot that he had previously vacated. “There you go,” Dean says, encouraging Jimmy to relax by cuddling him close and running a comforting hand through his wild locks. Dean loves Jimmy’s hair – loves it even more when it’s all sex-ruffled and sticky-uppy. 

“He’s leaving tomorrow for an extended business trip and he’s going to be gone for a month.” Dean listens attentively and places a chaste kiss to Jimmy’s temple as he continues. “I mean, come on, he’s been putting it off for months already! I don’t see how one more day would make any difference,” Jimmy grumbles. 

“I’m sorry, babe. That really sucks.” Jimmy seems placated by Dean’s commiseration, snuggling closer and throwing an arm around Dean’s chest. “At least he isn’t really sick though – I know that you were worried about him.” Dean had been worried too. He didn’t even know the guy yet but when Jimmy had said that his brother was sick enough to leave work (something that Jimmy said Castiel never did) Dean couldn’t help but think of his own brother. He still to this day goes into major panic mode when Sam gets sick. So Dean could and did empathize with Jimmy and hoped that Castiel wasn’t seriously ill and would get better soon. 

Jimmy looks a bit guilty at that statement – probably because even though he appears truly relieved that his brother is ok, Dean’s pretty sure that his primary emotion is still anger at not being able to show off his new boyfriend. “Yeah. He says he’s ok but he still wasn’t willing to come out to dinner with us tonight. Just one measly meal, that’s all I’m asking! It would only take a couple of hours out of his busy schedule. But nooo… I’m going to have to wait a whole month to introduce my twin to my boyfriend. Tell me, how is that fair?” 

Dean takes a moment to think of what to say, removing his hand from Jimmy’s hair to run it over the back of his own head. He doesn’t really know how to answer that question. He can understand Jimmy’s frustration but he can’t really share his outrage. He personally thinks that Jimmy is overdoing it a bit –Dean doesn’t think that he himself is anything to write home about so why should it really matter? It’s something that seems to matter to Jimmy though, so Dean tries to be sympathetic. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be ok. We’ll meet eventually… unless you plan on kickin’ me to the curb anytime soon.” Dean goes for humor to lighten the mood and Jimmy gives him a dirty look. 

“Of course not. But that doesn’t make me any less disappointed.” Well, humor isn’t going to work. Maybe Dean can try distraction…

“Ok, well then, how about I give you something that’s guaranteed not to cause disappointment?” Dean quirks an eyebrow at Jimmy before scooching down a bit on the bed and kissing him soundly on the mouth. He doesn’t linger long there though, moving further down Jimmy’s body and kissing all along his jaw and down his neck. Jimmy’s posture is stiff though, and he’s quiet – none of his usual squirming or moaning that Dean’s come to expect in situations such as these. And when Dean’s hand lands on Jimmy’s (completely soft) cock, it’s obvious that Jimmy’s just not feeling it right now, so he pulls back and props his head on his open palm, smiling softly. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. Maybe I should just go…” Jimmy slips out of bed again and Dean face-plants into the empty pillow for a moment before sitting up to watch his boyfriend. He’s begun to dress himself, picking up various items of clothing from where they had been unceremoniously thrown the night before. 

“Hey, no need to apologize. If you’re not into it, you’re not into it. That’s ok.” He stands up as well and pulls a fresh pair of boxer-briefs out of the top drawer of his dresser before slipping them on and turning to face Jimmy once again. “Why don’t you stay for breakfast though? I make awesome cinnamon-apple pancakes.” Dean flashes a wide grin but Jimmy doesn’t even seem to notice – he just continues to collect his discarded items from around the room. 

When he’s done, he finally looks at Dean with an apologetic expression and says, “Thank you, but no. I think I’m going to go check on Cas… maybe see if I can get him to change his mind about tonight.” Dean wants to say something to that but it really isn’t his place. So instead he just follows Jimmy to the kitchen, where the door to the enclosed stairwell which leads to the ground-level exit is located. He pulls Jimmy in by the waist just before he reaches the door and attempts to give him a thorough goodbye kiss. The kiss that Jimmy allows is perfunctory at best though, and he’s quickly spinning back around to open the door. 

“Ok, well, good luck, I guess.” Dean shifts awkwardly from foot-to-foot, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. “Tell your brother I hope he feels better… And I guess I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Tonight, yes. Shall I pick you up?” Jimmy asks, sparing a glance over his shoulder at Dean.

“Nah. I’m gonna hitch a ride with Sam.” 

“Alright then. I’ll see you tonight.” And with that, Jimmy is out the door and on his way down the stairs, leaving Dean strangely uncomfortable, standing in his kitchen in his underwear. He shuts the door slowly, thinking maybe Jimmy will come running back up the stairs to finish something – Dean’s not sure what exactly, but he feels like he’s been left hanging somehow. 

He doesn’t come back though, so instead Dean plucks an apron off a hook on the wall and sets about making coffee and the previously mentioned cinnamon-apple pancakes. He’s hungry, and they’re damn good. He can always save the leftovers for Bobby to eat later. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, the rich aroma of strong coffee is filling the room and the spicy-sweet scent of the first perfect pancake is cooking on the griddle, when Dean hears the sound of a phone ringing from the bedroom. He runs down the hall and into the room to see that Jimmy has left his cell phone behind and that ‘Cas’ is calling. He answers it quickly, not really thinking that maybe he should have let it go to voicemail until _after_ he’s already hit ‘accept.’ 

“Hello?” he says, bonking himself on the forehead with the handle of the spatula for not thinking before he acts. After a few moments of silence, Dean pulls the phone away from his ear to make sure that the call is still connected. It is, so Dean repeats, “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“ _Um… Oh! Yes, um… hello. I can hear you._ ” 

“Jimmy? Hey, baby, you left your phone at my apartment.” Dean feels less guilty about answering it now; it’s good that Jimmy knows where he left his phone. “Your voice sounds weird, are you ok?”

“ _Um, no. This, ah..._ ” He clears his throat before continuing. “ _This isn’t Jimmy… it’s Castiel._ ”

“Oh. Sorry. You sound a lot like Jimmy.” Dean clears his throat as well, embarrassment at calling his boyfriend’s brother (who just happens to also be one of his new bosses) ‘baby’ making the words get a bit stuck. 

“ _Yes… Well… I take it that Jimmy is not there?_ ” He sounds stiff and formal, and Dean suddenly remembers Sam’s warning about Castiel’s serious demeanor. He hopes he hasn’t pissed the guy off already – they’ve barely said a handful of words to each other. 

“No, he—Shit!” Dean smells burning at the same time that he hears the smoke detector go off, rushing back to the kitchen and switching the phone from his right ear to his left so that he can hold it in place with his shoulder while he wields the spatula in his right hand – quickly turning off the heat and removing the burnt pancake from the stovetop before depositing it in the sink, for lack of a better option. “Shit, shit, shit!” 

“ _Dean! Are you ok?! What’s happening?!_ ” 

“Oh, uh… sorry, Cas. My, ah…” He opens the window with a rending screech, waving a hand towel around to dispel the small cloud of smoke. “...my cakes are burning.” 

“ _You’re baking cakes?_ ” Dean can barely hear him over the loud blaring of the smoke detector. 

“No, I… Hold on for a second.” Dean places the cell phone on the counter and goes into the hall. He jumps up to reach the smoke detector and rips the noisy bastard right off the ceiling, then yanks the battery out to cease its incessant beeping. Then he returns to the kitchen and picks the phone back up, leaning back against the sink and sighing forcefully before placing it back up to his ear. “That’s better. Anyway… sorry about that. I’m actually making pancakes – cinnamon-apple. They’re kinda my specialty.” Dean drops his chin down to rest on his chest and scrunches his eyes closed. What the fuck is wrong with him? Why would Castiel care about Dean’s fucking pancakes? The guy’s looking for his brother, not for a list of Dean’s culinary abilities. 

“ _Really? Those are my favorite!_ ” 

“Hey, maybe I could make them for you sometime?” Shit. _Fuck._ Did he really just say that? _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ Dean thinks.

“ _Oh… That would be-_ ” 

“So anyway…” Dean interrupts, hoping to save himself even a little embarrassment. “You’re looking for Jimmy, right? Yeah, he left about twenty minutes ago – must have forgotten his phone. Actually, he said he was going to see you.” 

“ _Did he, ah… did he happen to say why?_ ” he asks, a hint of trepidation in his voice. Weird, but ok. 

“He said that he wanted to check on you – make sure you were ok. Speaking of which… You are, aren’t you? Ok, I mean. I was worried about you.” 

“ _You were?_ ” Cas asks, his confusion evident. And oh, Dean realizes his mistake too late – telling someone you don’t know that you were worried about them must definitely make you sound like some sort of weirdo… a little bit, at least. 

“Well, yeah. I mean, you know, _we_ were worried about you… Jimmy and me… both of us…” _You can probably stop rambling now, Dean_ , he thinks to himself. “So, are you?”

“ _Am I…? Oh! Am I ok? Yes. Thank you, yes. I’m ok,_ ” he says, letting the last trail off into an awkward silence (as if this conversation could get anymore awkward). 

“Good! That’s, ah… that’s good, Cas. Glad to hear it.” He tries to think of something else to say. He should probably just say ‘goodbye’ and hang up, but something compels him to warn Castiel about Jimmy’s other motive for visiting his brother. “Oh, I should probably mention… I think Jimmy is also going to try to convince you to come to dinner tonight.”

“ _Oh…_ ” The disappointment in Castiel’s voice is noticeable so Dean hastens to reassure him that he needn’t feel obligated to go. 

“I mean, it would be nice if you could come, but I totally understand if you’re not feeling up to it… or if you’re too busy… you know…” 

“ _Yes, well, I should probably stay home. I’m leaving for an extended trip early tomorrow. Not that I don’t want to meet you… formally, of course. It’s just… it will probably take me quite some time to pack and-_ “

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Cas. No hard feelings, ok? We’ll meet eventually, right?” 

“ _Yes. I imagine it’s inevitable at this point, Dean._ ” ‘Inevitable?’ That’s kind of a weird way of putting it – and why does he sound so disappointed when he says that? Maybe he has pissed the guy off after all. It’s probably best if he shuts his yap and stops keeping him on this phone call. After all, he hadn’t actually called to talk to Dean, so basically Dean has just wasted his time by swearing at him and blabbering on about pancakes, of all things. 

“Well, anyway… you probably want to get going – you know, start your packing and all.” 

“ _Yes, I suppose I should._ ” Dean straightens up and pushes off from the counter, pacing the short length of the kitchen while he finishes up the conversation – very similar to how Jimmy had done not an hour earlier (though with a bit more clothing). “ _It was very nice talking to you, Dean. I hope the rest of your pancakes turn out ok. It would be a shame for such a delicious food to go to waste._ ” Dean smiles at Castiel’s nice words – ok, maybe he was just indulging Dean but he hopes he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Cas. I’d never let such a tragedy happen.” He hears Castiel chuckle and admonishes himself for the flirty tone that he’d used. He really needs to be cognizant about that sort of shit when speaking to Jimmy’s brother – for all sorts of reasons. And speaking of Jimmy… “Hey, could you let Jimmy know about leaving his phone here? I don’t want him to worry. Tell him that I’ll bring it to dinner tonight.” 

“ _Of course. Yes. I’ll do that._

“Ok, well, talk to you later, Cas.”

“ _Until next time, Dean._ ” 

Dean hits the ‘end call’ button and rests the top of the phone against his chin for a moment before placing the thing in his apron pocket and shaking his head. This hadn’t been the ideal way to ‘meet’ Castiel, but it had been pretty in-line with how shit usually went down in Dean’s life. Words like ‘polished’ and ‘civilized’ really didn’t rear their sophisticated heads around Dean Winchester. 

He turns back around to continue making his pancakes, being careful to watch them this time. Spending the time thinking about their conversation, he can’t help hoping that Jimmy will be able to change his brother’s mind. For some reason, Dean gets the feeling that he and Castiel will get along just fine.


	6. Chapter 6

“ _Hello. You’ve reached Jimmy Novak. I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your call, but if you leave your name and a brief message, I’ll be sure to get back to you just as soon as possible._ ”

Castiel considers leaving a voicemail. He knows that he should – just leave a message, or better yet a text, asking Jimmy what he needs to know, and leave it at that. The matter isn’t urgent, not really. It’s just something that he’d forgotten to ask his brother when he had stopped by to try to convince Castiel to change his mind and come to dinner. 

But he knows that the other option that he has in getting in touch with Jimmy is to call Dean (Sam had given Castiel his Dean’s cell number back when he had set up the interview. He hadn’t needed to use it then, but he had saved it anyway). He’d waited to call Jimmy until he knew that they’d be together. It’s eight o’clock – the exact time that his brother had told him that they were meeting for dinner. He had hoped to at least get another chance to hear Dean’s rich, throaty voice in the background. 

Speaking to the man earlier in the day had been both a blessing and a curse. Hearing Dean call him ‘baby’ and offer to make him his favorite kind of pancakes had been so perfect that it bordered on torturous – it was just a fluke, after all. The ‘baby’ had been meant for Jimmy, and the pancake thing… that was just something you said, right? It hadn’t been a real offer… right? 

The whole conversation had been… well, it had been wonderful – exciting and playful… awkward at times, but in an endearing sort of way. Castiel, in other words, just couldn’t get enough. Though this raises a big red flag, of course, in a situation where all the flags so far are already dripping crimson. 

Castiel should keep his distance, literally as well as figuratively. He knows this. He knows that the best thing for him to do is to just call Jimmy back and leave a message. But instead, what he finds himself doing is dialing Dean’s number, ostensibly to talk to Jimmy, but in reality he really just wants to speak with Dean again. 

“ _Hello?_ ” There’s a cacophony of clinking tableware and the din of many voices in the background, but still, hearing just that one word spoken by the object of his infatuation makes an extra spike of adrenaline zip through Casitel’s already flooded system. _Shit,_ he thinks to himself. _This is bad… this is very, very bad._

“Dean, Hello. This is Castiel. I don’t suppose Jimmy would happen to be with you now? He isn’t answering his phone.” He picks up a retractable pen from his nightstand and begins pacing the length of his bedroom, clicking the end repeatedly while he does so. It’s a nervous habit – one that Jimmy can’t stand – but it’s subconscious (for the most part), and it gives Castiel something to do with his hands when he’d really rather be doing something else. 

_Click, click, click, click…_

“ _Oh, hey Cas! No, Jimmy isn’t here yet, and his phone died a couple of hours ago. He should be here soon though – we planned to meet at eight and it’s… ten after, now. So he should be here any minute._ ”

“Oh, ok. Well, I should probably let you go. I apologize for disturbing you.” 

_Click, click, click, click…_

“ _Hey, be my guest. Disturb me all you want!_ ” He hears Dean chuckle on the other end of the line and he falters in his pacing, the hand with the pen hanging loosely by his side, clicking ceased for the time being.

“Really?” he asks, standing up straight and glancing quickly around the room, like maybe this is a trick, or a test, and someone is watching him. Though that’s probably just his conscience reminding him that further conversation with Dean is the opposite of prudent. 

“ _Sure! I mean, Jimmy really should be walking through the door any time now. And I’m just sitting here with my big dork of a brother – his girlfriend couldn’t make it – so I could do with a little distraction._ ” Then a little muffled, “ _Don’t look at me like that, Sammy. You know it’s true._ ” 

Castiel can’t help the small smile that pulls at his mouth as he imagines the look Sam is giving his brother. Though this causes him to imagine Dean sitting across from him, looking dashing in a suit (Castiel would bet anything that the man cleans up exceptionally well), which leads to him thinking of how Dean would look as Castiel took him out of that suit – slowly sliding his tie from around his neck… pushing his suit coat off over his shoulders and down his arms, stopping at his elbows so that Dean’s arms are restrained while Castiel attacks his exposed neck with lips and tongue and teeth and… _fuck…_ Now he’s hard. 

He tips his head back, exasperated at himself, then resumes his pacing, clicking away at the pen again. He clears his throat while he tries to think of a conversation topic that doesn’t include his desire to bend Dean over the restaurant’s table and fuck him in front of all the patrons – brothers be damned. 

_Click, click, click, click…_

Work would be a safe topic. Just ask the man if he enjoys working at Novak, see if there’s anything he needs or any suggestions he’d like to make – typical business speak, Castiel does it every day. 

“So, Dean, how did those pancakes turn out?” The next few clicks of the pen are performed against Castiel’s forehead as he sits down on the edge of the bed and tries his best to regain even a little bit of composure. 

“ _Mmm... oh man, they were awesome! Just thinking about them again is making my mouth water._ ” The noises Dean makes in his reminiscence of his breakfast is downright filthy. Castiel flops down on his back, tossing the pen aside, and palms his traitorous dick, willing away his arousal. Though at this point he’s pretty sure that it’s a lost cause – Dean’s voice alone is enough to get his endorphins swimming, but Dean making pleased, yummy noises causes Castiel to bite his lip almost to the point of drawing blood just to keep from moaning aloud and coming in his pants. He tries his best, he really does, but a slight whimper manages to make its way out regardless, before he can even think of what to say in reply. “ _Cas? Are you ok?_ ”

Wracking his hormone soaked brain for something, anything, to say in response, Castiel rolls over onto his front, smashing his face into the bedding. Perhaps if he just says nothing, Dean will think he died and he can run away and change his name and live in a hut on the side of a mountain somewhere and no one will be the wiser. 

He’s contemplating doing just that when he hears a scuffle on the other end of the line. He hears Dean shout, “ _Hey, asshole! What the hell?!_ ” and thinking that Dean is speaking to him – had he said something wildly inappropriate without realizing it?! – Castiel shoots back up to a standing position, trying to quickly think of something to excuse his abhorrent behavior. 

“Dean, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know-“

“ _Cas! Hey, little brother, how’s it hangin’?!_ " Slumping his shoulders in relief, Castiel sits back down on the bed and retrieves his discarded pen. 

“Gabriel, what are you doing?” Castiel never knows what Gabriel is going to do next, so having him strong-arm himself into the situation does nothing to assuage Castiel’s ongoing anxiety. 

_Click, click, click, click…_

“ _What am I doing? What are you doing, Casanova?_ " Gabriel is speaking in a hushed voice, but only just – Dean can probably overhear every word. “ _Dean was making some pretty scandalous noises there – are you phone-sexing him in the middle of my restaurant, Cas?! Does Jimmy know about this?_ ” 

“No! I’m not ‘phone-sexing’ Dean!” This call is definitely not working out like he had planned. “And for God’s sake, Gabriel, watch what you say! Can’t he hear you?!” 

“ _Of course not. I took his phone and left the dining room._ " Castiel just sighs. Well, at least speaking with Gabriel has successfully killed his erection. “ _Actually, I can see him from here. Looks like Sam is trying to convince him to keep his cool… doesn’t seem to be succeeding though, I think he’s headed this way. Look, Cas, you’re the one who decided to bow out of this whole situation – for good reason, too. So what the hell are you doing calling the guy?_ ” 

“I just…” _Click… click…_ The clicking of the pen has lost its frantic pace – the hyped-up feeling of nervousness has lost its edge and Castiel’s mood is rapidly slipping into something much more melancholy. “I called because I needed to talk to Jimmy about something-“

“ _Bullshit, Castiel. Unless someone died or you’re literally on fire, whatever you had to ‘talk to’ him about could have waited. So tell me the truth._ ” Castiel knows he’s right. His excuse had been a feeble one. 

“Ok. Fine. I called earlier to talk to Jimmy but he had left his phone at Dean’s place so Dean answered it.” He stands up and tosses the pen onto the night stand before walking slowly through the room, finally coming to a stop at the balcony door. He doesn’t go out, just leans against the glass and stares out into the night. His condo is on the seventy-first floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows taking up most of the wall space. He loves it up here – not only can he see out over much of the city, but his view of the lake is also breathtaking. It gets lonely sometimes though, and he often wishes that he had someone to share it with. “We ended up talking for a while.”

“ _And…_ ”

“And nothing, Gabe. We talked. It was nice.” Castiel breathes heavily on the glass, fogging it up so that he can trace patterns onto the glass with a finger. 

“ _Ok, but that doesn’t explain why you’re calling him now._ ”

“I told you… I had to talk to Jimmy and he wasn’t answering his phone.” He leans in to breathe on the glass again, widening the surface area so that he can draw a heart around the ‘DEAN’ that he’s placed there already… _God, I’m hopeless,_ he thinks while he does so. 

“ _Yeah, and I’m going to give up sugar for Lent this year. What’s the real reason, Cas?_ ” Castiel huffs out an irritated breath and angrily swipes his hand over his window art, leaving behind nothing but a pitiful smudge. He resumes his pacing of the room, but it’s slow this time, halting, all the fight gone out of him as he wanders around aimlessly.

“I just wanted to hear his voice again.” He hears Gabriel sigh and he knows that he sounds pathetic but if he’s being honest, then that really can’t be helped. 

“ _Look, Cas. Just… just get a good night’s sleep and then tomorrow you’ll be half-way around the world, up to your elbows in sweet-talking foreigners. I’m sure you’ll be able to find your own green-eyed mechanic to do unspeakable things to._ ”

“I suppose…” Personally, Castiel doesn’t think anyone could compare to Dean. But he guesses that it wouldn’t hurt to find out. 

“ _That’s the spirit! Oh, hey, look who just walked through the door. Remember what I said, Cas._ ” With that, Gabriel is gone and another familiar voice is speaking on the other end of the line.

“ _Hello?_ ” The sound of his twin’s voice, so much like his own though markedly different, has always been a comfort to Castiel… up until now, at least. Now the comfort is tainted with feelings of guilt and shame which reminds Castiel once again why he should be avoiding Dean at all costs – not seeking out his time and attention. 

“Jimmy, hey, it’s me.” 

“ _Oh, hey, Cas. Did you call to say you changed your mind after all?_ ” The hope in his brother’s voice is another stab to the heart, but if nothing else, this whole conversation has just proven that it’s in everyone’s best interests is Castiel just stays home tonight. 

“No, Jimmy. Actually, I was calling to see if you were going to be able to keep an eye on my place while I’m gone. You know, get the mail, water the plants, the stuff you usually do when I’m out of town. After our argument earlier I wasn’t sure if…“

“ _You know I will, Cas. Just because I’m mad that you apparently don’t want to meet my boyfriend-_ ”

“Jimmy, you know that’s not the reason-“

“ _Yeah, yeah, Cas, I know. Business opportunity, blah, blah. Whatever. Just… the moment you get back you are going to meet Dean, whether you like it or not. Ok?_ ” Feeling a bit like Damocles with that damnable sword, Castiel resigns himself to a very stressful month. 

“Alright Jimmy… the moment I get back.”

“ _Good. Now that that’s settled… speak of the handsome devil, and he shall appear… Hey, sexy._ ” Castiel hears kissing noises in the background and takes that as his cue to end the call.

“Ok, I’ll let you get to it, then. Don’t forget about my plants, Jimmy.”

“ _I know, I know. Hey, keep in touch, ok, Cas? I don’t want to just hear from you through company emails. Call me every once in a while. I expect regular updates about all the international ass that you’ll be getting over the next month._ ” Castiel is about to respond to that when he hears Jimmy speaking to someone in the background. “ _What? Why? But you don’t even… fine._ ” Then he’s speaking to Castiel again. “ _Cas, Dean says he wants to talk to you._ ” 

“Ok…” Castiel feels trepidation now – what could Dean want to talk to him about? 

“ _Cas, hey. I just wanted to make sure that you know that I didn’t mean to drop out of our conversation like that. Your, ah, other brother just snatched my phone right out of my hand and well… Sam talked me out of punching the guy out and grabbing it back. Something about not wanting to cause a scene, or something like that._ ” Castiel laughs while he imagines Dean doing just that. It would serve Gabriel right to have someone like Dean take him down a peg. 

“Don’t worry about it, Dean. I know exactly how obnoxious Gabriel can be. Consider yourself lucky that he only took your phone – at least he didn’t push you in front of a moving car or poison your appetizers, or at the very least spill a drink in your lap to make it look like you wet yourself.” And damn it all – now he’s thinking about Dean’s lap. He hears Dean laugh and then say something indistinct to someone in the background before he’s talking into the phone again.

“ _Yikes! I’ll be sure to watch my back, or my crotch, as the case may be._ ” Then in a muffled voice, “ _All right, all right! Hold your horses, baby._ ” Pause. “ _Well, if you were so hungry, then why were you half an hour late?!_ Then back into the phone, “ _I’m sorry, Cas. I’ve got to go. Apparently _someone_ is going to die of starvation if we don’t eat in the next five seconds. Hey, have a good trip. And like Jimmy said, keep in touch._ ”

“I will, Dean. Thank you.” He will? “And again, I apologize for not coming out tonight. I hope you enjoy your dinner.” 

“ _Well, it’s no cinnamon-apple pancakes but I’m sure it’ll be good. Unless I get poisoned, of course._ ” He chuckles again and his voice sounds far off when he says, “ _I’m going, I’m going! Jesus, Jimmy, calm down._ ” And now Castiel is sure it’s the end of the call when Dean says, “ _Ok, I really have to go now. Goodnight, Cas._ ” 

“Goodnight, Dean.” Castiel keeps the phone up to his ear for a few moments just in case, but when he looks, he sees that Dean has hung up – taking his sinful voice with its charming laughs and enticing moans with him. 

Perhaps Gabriel and Jimmy are right. Maybe he just needs to get laid. It has been an awfully long time. This trip could be the perfect opportunity to get Dean off his mind. He goes to the nightstand and pulls out his favorite type of lube and condoms, preparing to pack them into his luggage. At the last moment though, he turns back and tosses the bottle of lube onto the bed. The sound of Dean’s moans keep playing on a loop in his head and he’s sure that he won’t be able to sleep tonight without first fucking into something tight and slick until he comes with Dean’s name on his tongue. 

But that’s tonight. Tomorrow’s a new day and he promises himself that he’ll try to do better.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, you guys are going to haaaate me for this chapter. Just so you know though... I regret nothing! 
> 
> Take note: there are some new and probably questionable tags added for this chapter.

“All right, let’s go eat!” Dean goes to tuck his phone into his pocket but is stopped by a hand on his wrist. Jimmy snatches the phone out of his hand and brandishes it in Dean’s direction as if to emphasize a point that he hasn’t actually made yet. “What?” Dean asks, confusion evident in his voice. 

“This is _your_ phone?” Dean feels like this might be a trick question but he can’t imagine why, so he just decides to go with the truth, obvious as it may be.

“Yes, it’s _my_ phone.” He watches as Jimmy starts tapping at the screen, bringing up the ‘recent calls’ and scrolling down the list. Dean has nothing to hide, so the invasion of privacy doesn’t faze him too much. “Can I help you find something there, Jimmy?” Jimmy looks up and hands the phone back to Dean.

“You were talking to Cas, on your phone.” He thinks it’s supposed to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. 

“Yeah… so?” He does pocket his phone then, still confused as to why he feels like he’s on trial here. 

“Was it the first time? It didn’t sound like the first time. Did _you_ call _him_?” Jimmy is clearly agitated, though Dean doesn’t completely understand why. So he steps up and looks Jimmy in the eye while smoothing his hands up and down Jimmy’s upper arms in an attempt to calm him. 

“Hey, hey… what’s gotten into you?” Jimmy’s shoulders visibly relax and he looks down to the floor before looking back up to Dean’s face, the steel gone from his gaze. “No, it wasn’t the first time – we talked earlier today. And _he_ called _me_. Which reminds me…” Dean reaches into his other pocket and pulls out Jimmy’s cell phone and hands it over. “He called me because he wanted to talk to you – same as earlier. Didn’t he tell you when you went to his place?”

“No, he didn’t mention it.” For some reason, the knowledge that Castiel hadn’t mentioned their conversation to Jimmy makes Dean feel disappointed. Maybe it was just that the man had promised to tell Jimmy that Dean had his phone, but it felt like more than that. Dean found himself wanting Cas’s approval, and failing to talk about him at all gave Dean the impression that Jimmy’s brother didn’t even consider him worth mentioning. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. 

“Oh, well, he must have just forgotten. He’s got a lot on his mind with the trip and all.” Just as quickly as it had receded, that hard edge is back in Jimmy’s blue eyes, pinning Dean in place like a butterfly on a corkboard. He gives Dean a speculative look but doesn’t say anything else, instead he just pockets his own phone and brushes past Dean to make his way through the dining room to the table where Sam is waiting, speaking to Gabriel who is sitting with him. 

Dean sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, wondering what the hell he said to make Jimmy look at him like that. His boyfriend can be such a fucking handful sometimes. Sighing again, he walks over to join the men at the table, seating himself between Sam and Jimmy with Gabriel sitting across from him. He gives Jimmy’s thigh a quick squeeze, but it doesn’t seem to have any affect – Jimmy doesn’t even glance his way as he reads over the menu in his hands. 

Instead of taking out his frustration on Jimmy, Dean turns his gaze on Gabriel, who’s smirking back at him, and asks, “So, you give this kind of personal treatment to all your customers?” He’s referring to the fact that Gabriel is still sitting with them instead of going back to whatever owner duties he had been performing before he unceremoniously snatched Dean’s phone away from him a while ago. 

“ _Dean…_ ” Sam says under his breath, more than a hint of warning coloring the use of his name. Dean just gives him a challenging look before turning back to Gabriel. Jimmy is still being suspiciously quiet – keeping his head down as he continues to peruse the menu.

“It’s quite all right, Sam. And, no, Dean, I don’t usually take such an interest in my patrons. But since you’re down a Novak tonight, I thought I’d dine with you. I may not be a perfect substitute for Castiel…” Dean scoffs and Jimmy whips his head up to level him with a suspicious glare. “… but I think I’m qualified to size up Jimmy’s new beau just fine.” Dean decides not to goad the man any further, so he picks up his own menu and starts to look it over. 

“I don’t understand,” he asks the table at large – under ‘appetizers’ he only sees items that should more appropriately be labeled ‘desserts.’ “Why are all the appetizers sweet?” 

“Didn’t you notice the name of the restaurant, Dean-o?” Gabriel asks. Dean lowers the menu and thinks for a minute. He’s blanking on the name for some reason so he picks the menu back up and flips it over to the front cover. ‘Dessert First’ is emblazoned on the cover and Dean feels a wide smile stretch his mouth as he looks back up to Gabriel. 

“Sweet!” he exclaims, looking around at the rest of the faces at the table to see if they share in his enthusiasm. Sam is giving him an affectionate head shake and even Jimmy can’t hide the little quirk of his lips. “I get to start my meal with pie?! This is the best restaurant ever!” Gabriel’s smirk has morphed into a genuine smile as he takes in Dean’s enthusiasm. 

“You very well can, though I recommend you take a look at all the sweets we have on offer. I can even make some recommendations if you’re up for it.” Dean’s pretty sure that he’ll pick pie, but he looks over the menu just to be polite. 

“Good luck getting Dean to eat anything besides pie, if pie is on offer,” says Sam. “The man has a fetish.”

“I do not.” Dean feels the tips of his ears start to flame and he sneaks a peek at Jimmy out of the corner of his eye. The little shit has a smirk of his own now and Dean just knows that he’s thinking about that time, a few nights ago, when Dean had sat up in bed eating a piece of warm, gooey cherry pie while Jimmy busied himself with sucking Dean off. So he likes pie and he likes blow jobs… what’s wrong with enjoying both at the same time? 

“Ah, well, opposites must attract then, right Jimmy?” Jimmy just gives a silent shrug as Gabriel elaborates. “Jimmy here never eats desserts. Castiel is the twin with the sweet tooth. Isn’t that right, Jimmy?” Jimmy fixes his suspicious glare on Gabriel this time, but his brother pays it no attention – going on as if Jimmy isn’t trying to do him physical damage by sheer willpower alone. “He even has a dish named after him on the menu here, doesn’t he?”

Dean quickly scans the names of the sweet appetizers once more and comes to a stop when he sees ‘Crepes à la Castiel’ – buttery crepes filled with smooth peanut butter and grape jelly. Trying to save face over the pie fetish accusation, Dean says, “Sounds good. I’ll have that.” 

Jimmy huffs audibly and slams the menu down before pushing away from the table with a loud screech of wood on wood. Without a word, he stalks away toward the restrooms, leaving the other three men staring wide-eyed after him. 

“What crawled up his ass and died?” Gabriel wonders aloud. 

Dean gives him a dirty look and says, “Stay here,” before following after Jimmy himself, like he expects the other two to go charging after the fuming man. When he steps into the bathroom, empty besides the two of them, he slowly approaches Jimmy, who’s standing at the sink, just staring at the running water. Dean turns off the tap and gently caresses Jimmy’s back, trying to catch his eye in the large mirror. 

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Jimmy turns around and leans back against the sink. He folds his arms over his chest and refuses to look Dean in the face, but he does end up speaking, though softly. 

“Cas chose not to come tonight yet somehow the night is still all about him. _I_ wanted to be the one to introduce you to each other, but come to find out – you’ve been talking together all day, _without me_ , and now it’s like you’re the best of friends or something!” He finally looks up and Dean can see the hurt and the anger in his expressive eyes, and he wishes that he hadn’t been responsible for putting it there, however unintentional. “Do you like him better than me now?”

“What?! Jimmy, I don’t even know the guy!” Dean runs his fingers through his hair, reaching a level of exasperation that he hasn’t reached since he dated Aaron and the guy insisted on following him everywhere he went. “He called because he was looking for you and we chatted for a few minutes. That’s all. He’s your brother – not to mention _my boss_ – did you want me to be rude and hang up on him or something?” 

“No, of course not. I’m sorry, I’m overreacting.” He unfolds his arms and wraps them around Dean’s waist, pulling him in close and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean responds in kind, wrapping his own arms around Jimmy and hugging him tight. He feels Jimmy’s warm lips on his throat and his hips rolling against Dean’s own, distracting him from the sucking kisses on his neck. 

“ _Jimmy…_ " Jimmy pulls away long enough to slip around Dean and click a lock on the bathroom door, and then comes back and steps up behind Dean, slipping a hand back around his waist, this time cupping it around Dean’s dick and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

Dean shouldn’t let Jimmy distract him like this – they’re in a public restroom with their brothers waiting outside for them, and they really should probably talk more about Jimmy’s freak-out. On the other hand – Dean’s never been one to refuse apology sex, or semi-public sex for that matter (fucked up as that may be), so instead he just leans back against Jimmy and lets him resume the wet attention to his neck while he unbuckles Dean’s belt and opens his pants, getting a hand inside to begin stroking Dean to full attention. 

“ _Fuck…_ Are you sure you want to do this here?” Dean asks. Jimmy ceases his ministrations and pulls back far enough to spin Dean around and gently press him up against the counter before dropping to his knees and pulling Dean’s pants and underwear down to his ankles so that his hard cock springs free, bouncing up and down a bit. 

“I’m positive.” And without further ado, Jimmy licks his lips and then dives right in – taking all of Dean into his mouth until his nose is bumping up against the trimmed hair at the base of Dean’s dick. Dean grips tightly to the edge of the counter so as not to grab Jimmy’s head and jerk his hips forward savagely. When he knows that he can control himself, he lets go of the sink and cards his fingers gently through that neatly combed dark hair – mussing it up just how he likes it. 

“Shit, baby… _Fuck…_ ” Sometimes Dean’s vocabulary can get pretty limited when he’s got his dick shoved down someone’s throat, but he’s by no means a quiet lover. “Ooooh, fuck… yes, yes, yes… just like that, baby!” He quickly loses his train of thought, and with it goes any misgivings about what’s happening right now. He simply immerses himself in the sensations and enjoys the ride. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Castiel returns from his en-suite bathroom after having shaved and brushed his teeth. He’ll take a quick shower before he leaves in the morning. He strips to his boxers, tossing the rest of his casual clothes into the hamper just inside the mouth of his walk-in closet, and then walks over to the bed and picks up his phone to set an alarm. 

Before he can do that, he notices that he has a missed call and a voicemail from Dean. Wondering what on Earth Dean would be calling for, and hoping fervently that nothing bad has happened to Jimmy, Castiel opens the voicemail and presses ‘play.’ For a few moments all there is is silence, but soon he hears a soft moaning, followed by something that makes him weak in the knees and forces him to sit heavily on the edge of the bed, his legs giving out from underneath him. 

“ _Shit, baby… _Fuck…_ Ooooh, fuck… yes, yes, yes… just like that, baby!_ ” Dean’s voice is unmistakable, and Castiel’s cock instantly takes notice, the blood draining so rapidly from his head to his dick that he actually feels a bit woozy. He knows that he should stop the message from playing immediately – it had obviously been sent as a mistake – but he finds himself continuing to listen instead, his hand drifting down to rest on his suddenly rock-hard erection. 

“ _Mmm… oh, yeah… that feels so good._ ” Without sparing a second thought as to the right or wrong of his actions, Castiel quickly taps the ‘speakerphone’ icon and sets the phone down on his nightstand, swinging his legs up onto the bed while he scrambles to lean back against the pillows. He shoves his boxers down roughly and pulls his cock out with one hand while the other gropes around the bed until he finds the bottle of lube that he had tossed down earlier. “ _Do you like that, baby? Hm? Does that feel good? Wrap your hand around that hard cock of yours. Come on… I want you to._ ”

“Oh, fuck… _Dean_ …” Castiel groans as he wraps a lube-slick hand around his throbbing erection. He keeps as quiet as he can though, not wanting to miss a word of Dean’s message. 

“ _Grip it harder, baby. Come on… I want to hear all the sexy noises you can make while you stroke that fucking perfect cock of yours._ ” Castiel whimpers and moans as he strips his cock, the tightness and the ample amount of lube making an obscene squelching sound. He doesn’t care though – all he notices are the sinful moans playing from the speaker of his phone, the sounds of Dean’s pleasure bringing him right to the edge in a matter of minutes. 

“ _You gonna come, baby? Yeah? Mm… I bet you are._ ” Castiel increases the speed of his hand and braces his feet on the mattress as he thrusts his hips up to meet the downward stroke of his hand – fucking up into his fist and closing his eyes as he imagines Dean’s beautiful face, lust-drunk and flushed. “ _I wish it was my hand wrapped around you instead. Would you like that, baby? Would you like it if I jerked that fucking cock until you came all over my face? Come on, baby… do it. Make yourself come… I want to see it._ ” 

“Fuck!” Castiel shouts, coming hard – one hand with a death-grip around his dick while the other cups tightly around his balls. He can hear Dean shouting out his climax through the phone’s speaker and he feels like he’s flying. He’s never come so hard in his life – his heart is beating hard and he looks down to see his heaving chest absolutely covered in his come. He lets his legs and arms flop down to the mattress and he closes his eyes again, his head thumping back into the pillows. 

“ _Shit, baby… that was fucking hot._ ” Castiel gets what he’s sure is a completely dopey smile on his face as he personally agrees with Dean’s assessment. The smile freezes on his face though, and then quickly morphs into a pained grimace when he hears another voice – a voice that’s definitely _not_ Dean’s – speaking. 

“ _It sure was, Dean,_ ” Jimmy says. Castiel hastens to grab a handful of tissues from the box on his nightstand and quickly wipes away the proof of his depravity. 

“ _Do you feel better now?_ ” Dean asks. Castiel tosses the wad of tissues into the small trashcan nearby and grabs a few more to wipe the sticky liquid from his hands. 

“ _Yes. There’s just one more thing I need you to do for me, Dean,_ ” Jimmy says, and Castiel recognizes the tone that his brother uses on him when he wants something and he knows it’s something that Castiel will not want to do, but inevitably ends up doing anyway because it’s Jimmy asking. 

“ _What’s that, baby?_ ” Dean responds, obviously not familiar with Jimmy’s manipulation tactics. 

“ _Tell me I’m the only one, Dean. Tell me that you want me, and no one else. Promise me, Dean._ ” Castiel hears Dean sigh and then hears the water running in the background for a moment before it’s shut off again. 

“ _Seriously, Jimmy? And this is all just because I talked to Cas a couple of times without you knowing about it? Don’t you trust him?_ ” Castiel holds his breath while he waits for Jimmy’s response. Two days ago Castiel would have no doubt of his brother’s answer. Now though, he’s not so sure. And the worst part is that he knows that he doesn’t deserve that unswerving trust that his twin has always had in him… not anymore. Not in this. 

“ _That’s neither here nor there. What I want right now is to hear it from you, Dean._ ” Castiel knows how persuasive Jimmy can be when he wants something. Dean never really stood a chance.

“ _Fine… You’re the only one, Jimmy. I want you and nobody else… especially not your brother. I promise._ ” Castiel doubles over as he sits on the edge of the bed, his face dropping heavily into his hands as Dean’s words strike his heart like a shard of ice. 

For the first time he wonders if this message hadn’t been a mistake after all. Could Jimmy really have done this deliberately? Could he have purposely called Castiel so that he would hear exactly what he’s missing and to be assured that it would never be his? He really hates to think that Jimmy could stoop to something like that. It’s something that he could easily see transpiring between Michael and Lucifer, but never between Jimmy and himself… at least not before yesterday.

Castiel realizes that he hasn’t heard anymore sound coming from his phone and he looks over to see that the message has ended. He almost deletes it – he really, really should. But instead he just sets his alarm and blacks out the screen. Whether he keeps the message for the wonderful sounds of Dean in the throes of passion, or for the sickening reminder that those sounds are not meant for him… he’s not quite sure. He tries not to think about it either way. 

Instead he turns on the tv and pulls up the Netflix menu, choosing some mindless sitcom to play quietly in the background. He needs the sound to drown out the warring thoughts in his head so that he can try to get some sleep. Five a.m. will be here before he knows it.


	8. Chapter 8

“ _Put on some pants, Bitches. We’re going out!_ ” Before Dean can even think about responding, Charlie continues with, “ _And don’t give me any lip about it either. It’s been weeks!_ ”

She’s right, it has been weeks since they got together outside of the shop. And anyway, Dean doesn’t actually have anything better to do tonight, unfortunately. “Ok.”

“ _Really?! You’re not even going to give me a little bit of lip?_ ” She sounds sincerely disappointed that Dean isn’t arguing with her about this. “ _But I had a speech all planned out and everything,_ ” she pouts. 

“Well, by all means then, lay it on me.” Dean walks into his bedroom and starts rooting around in his closet, looking for something nice enough, but not _too_ nice. He’s happy to go out and be Charlie’s wingman, but he isn’t actually looking to score himself (at least not with some random hookup in a bar – Damn Jimmy for wasting a perfectly good Saturday night). 

“ _Oh. Well, now it just doesn’t feel the same. Wait… why _are_ you free on a Saturday night? Oh no! You and Jimmy didn’t split up, did you? Although… if you _did_ split up, I’m here for you, Dean. We will go out and find you someone even hotter to rebound with… Buuut, Jimmy is pretty hot. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to find-_ ”

“Charlie! Charlie, stop! Me and Jimmy didn’t break up, ok? He’s just being a grumpy bastard because his brother has been away for two weeks and hasn’t bothered to call him, or answer his phone, apparently.” Dean chooses his second best pair of jeans, and a dark green button-down. 

“ _Oh no! Do they think something’s happened to him?_ ”

“No, he’s fine. He’s been communicating through email and the occasional text message. He’s just not answering his calls.” Dean thinks that there has to be some aspect to the situation that Jimmy isn’t telling him, but if Jimmy doesn’t want to talk about it, he’s not going to push. He knows that it would piss him off if someone tried to pry their way into shit between him and Sam. So these last couple of weeks he’s tried to be supportive without being intrusive. It’s been difficult, dealing with Jimmy running so hot and cold, but Dean doesn’t really know what else to do. “Jimmy said that he had some work that he needed to get done tonight, but I bet you anything that he’s just sulking in his apartment.”

“ _Well, then I guess he won’t miss you._ ”

“Yeah, I guess not…” And that, right there, is the problem. 

“ _Alrighty then. I’m on the bus now. I’ll be there in fifteen._ ”

“Yep. See you then.” Dean disconnects the call and heads off to take a shower. He tries to put Jimmy and his brother out of his mind for the time being. It’s not like their problem has anything to do with him anyway. 

 

It has only been an hour since they got to the bar, but Dean has a very pleasant buzz going on. He’d downed several shots in quick succession after they had arrived, determined to let loose a bit tonight. He’s not planning on getting completely wasted – he sometimes makes bad decisions when he gets really drunk and he’s not trying to be reckless – but a little bit tipsy sounds like just what the doctor ordered. 

“Dark-haired hottie, checkin’ you out...” Charlie says, pointing her chin in the direction of Dean’s left shoulder. Dean surreptitiously glances behind him and sees that there is, in fact, a ‘dark-haired hottie’ looking at him a bit hungrily. Dean gives him a smile before turning back around to face Charlie. When he does so, he also notices that his friend seems to have gained someone’s attention as well.

“Looks like I could say the same to you.” He motions with a tip of his own chin and Charlie spins around (a lot less smoothly than Dean had done) to see who he’s talking about. She turns back to face Dean so quickly that he wonders if she’s going to give herself whiplash. Her eyes are wide when she looks back at Dean and she quickly downs the rest of her drink before speaking up.

“I’m going in. Wish me luck!” She slams the empty glass down onto the counter and turns to walk toward the dapper young woman wearing dark gray trousers and a matching waistcoat, a crisp white button down, and a crimson neck tie, her hair sleek in a low, side-swept bun. 

“Good luck, my queen,” Dean says, with an indulgent smile. Charlie turns back for a moment and gives him an exaggerated wink and then she’s on her way. Dean turns as well, back to face the bar, lifting his own tumbler to his lips when he notices that there’s a body seated next to him where there hadn’t been a few moments ago. He tilts his head up and to the side, giving the ‘dark-haired hottie’ a welcoming smile before returning back to his glass. He’s nursing it, not wanting to give the man encouragement to offer to buy him a drink. He’s not against some polite conversation but he doesn’t want to lead the guy on. 

“Well, I was going to offer to buy you a drink, but it seems as though you have that covered,” the man says, with a slight chuckle. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in some cheese fries instead?” That gets Dean’s attention. He’s actually starving, and who doesn’t love a good cheese fry? He angles his body toward the man and gives him a more genuine smile. 

“That sounds perfect, actually,” Dean says, holding his hand out to shake. “Dean.” The man returns Dean’s smile and his handshake, lingering a bit longer than necessary. 

“Gunner. It’s nice to meet you, Dean.” Gunner turns to get the bartender’s attention, giving Dean the opportunity to give the man a thorough once-over. He’s a bit older than Dean, but attractive, he has to admit – larger than Dean in both height and bulk, with a ruggedly handsome face and warm brown eyes. He reminds himself that he’s involved and to keep his flirtiness in check as the bartender approaches them. “Yeah, can I get two orders of cheese fries and another beer for me… Anything else for you, Dean?” Dean quickly tosses back the rest of his whiskey and sets the glass down with a soft thump. 

“Beer sounds great. Thanks.” So much for turning down drink offers. Oh well, Dean can still be friendly without feeling obligated to put out. The bartender scribbles down their order on a notepad and turns to go. “So, ‘Gunner,’ that’s not a name you hear every day. What is it that you do, Gunner?” The bartender returns with their opened bottles of beer and Dean takes a swig to give himself something to do. 

“I’m a wrestler.” And now he’s definitely got Dean’s attention. He’d been really into WWF style wrestling when he was younger. It was one thing that he and his father John could bond over – before he started drinking so much that he didn’t bother trying anymore. At that point Dean’s interest had faded as well, the memories of happier times were a bit overwhelming to a surly teenaged Dean. 

“Really? That’s awesome, man.” They quickly fall into conversation after that, their shared interests and Dean’s buzz greasing the way for comfortable companionship. Before he knows it, all the fries are long gone and Charlie has walked up and is tapping Dean on the shoulder. 

“Dean? Hey, so ah, Dorothy and I…” she gestures to the woman she had been chatting up, “…are getting out of here. Are you going to be ok getting home without me?” Dean has to laugh at the thought of tiny Charlie being able to do much to help if Dean weren’t ok to be getting home on his own, but her care and concern is genuine and heartfelt so Dean stifles the laugh and answers her sincerely. 

“Yeah, of course, Charlie. I’m gonna be heading out soon as well.” He gives her a hug and a drops a kiss on the top of her flaming red hair. 

She returns the hug and says, “Call me tomorrow. Not too early though!” And then she’s headed out the door, an arm around Dorothy’s waist. Dean does chuckle then. He swears, that girl never fails to score. He turns back to Gunner then and his smile falters – he’s giving Dean a speculative look and Dean just knows what’s coming next. 

“So,” Gunner says. “Did you have any other plans tonight, Dean?” He’s tempted to say ‘no,’ he really is. The starchy fries haven’t done all that much to dampen his buzz and he can feel some definite arousal coursing through him at the thought of spending the night with the wrestler. But Dean’s never been a cheater, and regardless of Jimmy’s foul moods lately, he’s still Dean’s boyfriend. So instead he does what’s right and tries to let him down gently.

“Actually, I do. I’m sorry, Gunner, but I’m seeing someone.” He sees the instant disappointment in the other man’s face but he doesn’t see anger, so he tries to further the good will with, “I can give you money for the food and the beer if you want. I really did have a good time talking with you.” Gunner waves off the offer with good grace but pulls a pen out of his pocket and takes a napkin off the stack on the bar, then proceeds to scribble down a phone number.

“Hey, no hard feelings, Dean. And don’t worry about the food, I was happy to do it. I had a good time too. And if you ever do find yourself available, give me a call.” He hands the napkin to Dean who pockets it and rises to his feet, feeling just a little wobbly from the booze. 

“Thanks, man. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” With that, Dean makes his way to the door and out onto the sidewalk. He hails a cab and gives the driver his address and then leans his head back and closes his eyes. 

 

By the time he makes it up to his apartment he’s still fairly drunk and getting increasingly aroused and disgruntled. If Jimmy hadn’t been such a mope, Dean could be having sex right now. Or, he muses, if Jimmy had been more of a mope and just dumped Dean, he _still_ could have been having sex right now. He thinks of Gunner again and his disgruntled feelings increase. Either way, Dean thinks this is all Jimmy’s fault. And he figures that the least his boyfriend can do is provide him with some quality phone sex. 

So he quickly undresses and gets into bed, propping himself up with three pillows and grabbing the bottle of lube out of his nightstand. He doesn’t open it yet; instead he starts to stroke his hardening cock in his right hand while he attempts to find Jimmy’s number in the contacts on his phone. He finds ‘Novak’ and taps on the phone number to connect the call, then lays back with the phone up to his ear, listening to it ring with his hand working slowly and teasingly over his dick. 

“ _Hello?_ ” Jimmy’s voice sounds gravelly and slurred – Dean had obviously woken him. But it’s only 10:00pm – he can’t have been asleep for long so Dean doesn’t really feel all that bad about it. 

“Hey, baby. Guess what I’m doing right now?” He moans lowly, increasing the pressure on his cock for the desired effect. 

“ _Dean?_ ” Jimmy sounds confused, but definitely more awake now. 

“Of course it’s Dean. Who else calls you, ‘baby’?” He takes his hand off his cock to grab the bottle of lube. Then he cradles the phone between the side of his head and his shoulder and spreads a generous amount on his right hand. 

Jimmy sighs audibly and then says, “ _Well, actually, Dean, you are the only one who calls me that, but I’m not sure if it counts since both times now you obviously thought you were talking to my brother._ ” With that instant realization Dean shoots up to a sitting position, allowing the phone to fall to the bed. 

“Shit!” he exclaims, scrabbling to retrieve it with the non-lubed hand. He lets the other hover awkwardly in the air as he frantically tries to think of what to do or say. He finally decides on just trying to brush it off with humor – it is his quickest go-to coping mechanism after all. “Man, you _really_ do sound like Jimmy,” he says with an awkward little laugh. 

“ _So I’ve been told._ ” Dean hears what sounds like the rustle of bed sheets and then what may be the click of a lamp before he remembers that Cas is in a different country right now – no wonder he was asleep. And now Dean has probably fucked up the guy’s whole day by waking him up in the middle of the night, or early in the morning, whatever it may be where he is. 

“I’m really sorry, Cas. The truth is that I’ve been drinking a bit and I wasn’t paying attention when I connected the call. I just saw ‘Novak’ and here we are.” Dean stops just short of smacking himself in the forehead with a handful of lube – embarrassed again at the shit that seems to just flow out of his mouth when he speaks to Cas. Instead he lets the hand fall to his lap, reflexively wrapping it around his still-hard cock. He tries his best to stifle the moan that makes its way out at the feeling of tight slickness, but he’s pretty sure that he doesn’t do a very good job of it. 

“ _Dean?_ ”

“Yep. Still here, Cas. What was I saying?” He should probably just hang up and call Jimmy. Or better yet, just hang up and quietly die from embarrassment. But for some reason, maybe it’s the similarity in their voices – Dean’s not sure – but there’s something keeping him on the line. 

“ _I believe you were about to tell me what you’re doing right now._ ” Was he? “ _That is what you called Jimmy to talk about, wasn’t it?_ ” Shit. Does Cas really not understand why Dean had called Jimmy late at night? Maybe he just doesn’t know what time it is here?

“Well, yeah, it was, but-“

“ _Then you can just tell me instead, can’t you?_ ”

“Um…” Dean looks down to the wet hand wrapped around his _still_ hard cock (Jesus, why is he still hard?) and feels almost giddy at the prospect of telling Cas exactly what he’s doing right now. He can’t. He knows that he can’t. But he’d be lying if he said that the idea didn’t thrill him and make his cock twitch in his hand. “Well…”

“ _The least you can do is entertain me now that you’ve woken me up at… 5:00am, Dean._ ” If Dean didn’t know better he would think that Cas knows exactly what Dean is doing right now and that he’s just saying these things to torture him. Maybe he is at that, fuck if Dean knows. But he’s got to try to think of something reasonable to say besides the truth. 

“Oh, well, I ah… I found a new recipe that I wanted to try out.” Yeah, that works. Cas already knows that Dean likes to cook so this sounds like a plausible excuse. 

“ _Really? And what kind of recipe is that, Dean?_ ” Damn it, maybe food hadn’t been the best idea after all. Cas’s voice is low and sexy, and talking to Dean about food while he has his hand on his dick is a recipe for disaster. His hand starts to move up and down his shaft without much conscious thought though and Dean says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Pie…” He closes his eyes and thinks of a nice warm gooey piece of pie, with a flakey, buttery crust and whipped cream. He licks his lips and murmurs a low, “Mmm…” while continuing to work himself over. 

“ _Oh, I love a good pie. You know, I’m in Germany right now and they don’t really have pies here… at least none that I could find. Why don’t you describe it to me, Dean? Let me live vicariously through you._ ” 

“Ok…” Dean hesitates. He’s no stranger to pie-making. He does it quite often actually, so he knows a few recipes by heart and it wouldn’t be hard to fake it. But he knows how he gets, and this conversation has already devolved into something wrong and inappropriate. Especially since Dean can’t seem to stop his hand from bringing him closer and closer to completion the longer he stays on the phone thinking about pie and listening to Cas’s phone-sex voice. Cas seems to sense his hesitance, but instead of being put off by it, he chooses to prompt Dean, encouraging him to continue.

“ _Should we start with the crust? It’s probably a standard one, am I right? Just add a little bit of wetness to the raw ingredients and then kneed it thoroughly… is that right, Dean?_ ” 

“Fuck…” He says it quietly, unthinkingly, his focus on the steady up and down motion of his wet hand.

“ _What was that, Dean? Did you say something?_ ” Dean thinks he can hear more rustling sounds on the other end of the line, but he’s not sure. And Cas’s voice is low and sultry, but that could just be from the early hour and the unceremonious wake-up call. Again, Dean can’t be sure. 

“No, Cas, no, I didn’t say anything.” He tries to rally his thoughts so as to take part in the conversation, but it’s difficult to concentrate. “And yeah, standard crust. Just like you said.” 

“ _Oh, well be careful not to work it over too hard, Dean. It won’t come off just right if your hands create too much friction and make it too hot… but I’m sure you know that already._ ” Jesus, what is he trying to do to him? Is he listening to the words that are coming out of his mouth right now? 

“Yep, not too hard. Got it, Cas.” He loosens his grip a bit but doesn’t slow down – if anything he speeds up a bit. 

“ _So, what kind of filling does this pie have? Is it a fruit pie? Or maybe a cream pie? Does it taste sweet, Dean? Or is there a hint of bitterness on your tongue when you take a lick?_ ” Fuck… oh, fuck… Dean can feel and hear his breath getting heavy and he tries to angle the bottom of the phone away from his mouth as he continues to fuck into the slick channel of his fist. He needs to say something though, before Cas gets suspicious and calls him on his strange behavior. 

“It’s pecan.” It’s the first thing that pops into his head and he hopes that Cas doesn’t question why this would be a new recipe for him. 

“ _Oh, yeah? You need to be careful with those kind, Dean. It seems like a simple enough set of instructions but the corn syrup can be a problem._ ”

“Oh?” He says, trying hard not to let his voice crack. He’s getting very close now – his buzz from earlier has mostly worn off now and the clarity is helping him to focus on his impending orgasm, even if it isn’t helping him to stop going through with said orgasm while he’s on the phone with Cas. 

“ _Definitely. That stuff can be very sticky, Dean. You can squeeze it over and over and over again, but if you squeeze it just a little too hard… Oh!_ ” Dean comes with the sound of Cas’s exclamation echoing in his head, the mostly silent pause afterward filled with his harsh breathing. He hears Cas swallow audibly before he continues with his warning, a bit more subdued this time. “ _Yeah… that stuff can get all over, can’t it? It’s ok though, you can just lick it off your hands afterward… can’t you, Dean?_ ”

“Jesus, Cas…” He takes a deep breath and tries to collect himself enough to at least end this conversation… if you can even call it that. Dean doesn’t know what the fuck to call it. 

“ _I’m sorry, Dean. I can get pretty passionate when talking about this kind of stuff. I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable._ ” Uncomfortable? Dean hasn’t felt this comfortable in a long time. He’s so comfortable that he’s not sure he’s going to be able to even move far enough to clean himself up.

“Hey, no worries, Cas. If anyone understands the lure of pie, it’s me.” He feels kind of like a dick, slipping out right after sex, but it’s not like Cas even knows about that part (at least he hopes not) and he really should clean himself up so he can start to worry about the ethical implications of what just transpired. “I should probably get going though. It’s getting kind of late here and I’m sure you want to try to get back to sleep too. Sorry again for bothering you.” 

“ _It was no problem, Dean. I have nothing scheduled for today anyway. It was very nice talking to you though. And please, don’t hesitate to call again, even if you just want to… talk about pie._ ” Dean chuckles at that. Does Cas realize how much that sounded like a euphemism? Not that it isn’t actually fitting, but still… 

“Sure thing, Cas. You’ll be my go-to person to ‘talk about pie’ with from now on.”

“ _I hope so, Dean. Sleep well._ ”

“Goodnight, Cas. Or rather, good morning, I guess.” Dean hears Cas chuckle as well before the call disconnects. He tosses the phone down on the bed next to him and then looks down at himself – He’s a bit sweaty and covered in come. He should probably take a shower but he can’t bring himself to move. So instead he just stares up at the empty ceiling thinking, _What the fuck just happened?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short, sorry about that. I'll try to get another one up soon.

When Dean wakes up the next morning, he’s pretty sure that what happened the night before was just a really vivid dream. It had to be, right? There’s no way that he drunk-dialed Jimmy’s brother and basically had phone sex with the guy under the guise of heated talk about pastries. There’s just no way, right? 

Wanting to delay the answer to that question as long as possible, Dean sits up and throws the covers off of him, looking down to see that he’s at least wearing a pair of blue boxer-briefs. So he’s not naked – though that’s not saying a whole lot. He does vaguely remember getting up to clean himself off, he could have put them on then. 

He stumbles to the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee, then moves onto the bathroom to empty his bladder and brush the moss out of his mouth. By the time he makes it back to the kitchen, the coffee is ready and he pours himself a cup. He spends a few more minutes staring out the kitchen window, watching one squirrel chasing another around the braches of a tree while the coffee in his mug cools enough to sip. The tree is a maple, the leaves at that perfect stage of mostly still in place but gone colorful all over – the vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows shaking slightly as the squirrels jump from branch to branch. 

Sipping carefully on the steaming brew, Dean wonders if Jimmy would be up for a bonfire one of these days. Autumn is Dean’s favorite season – the mild weather and beautiful foliage, the crisp evenings just tailor-made for snuggling around a roaring fire. And the food! The cooler temps encourage the eating of comfort foods filled with meat and starch – pot roasts and mac-n-cheese. And of course the pies… apple and pumpkin, and of course, pecan. Dean feels his face getting hotter than the hot coffee would account for when the thought of pecan pie runs through his mind, and he decides it’s time to bite the metaphorical bullet and check his phone. 

Bringing the cup of coffee with, Dean goes back to his bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed, swapping the coffee mug with his cell phone that’s sitting on the nightstand. He taps on the ‘phone’ icon and brings up the list of recent calls. His worst fears are confirmed when he sees an outgoing call to one ‘Cas Novak.’ 

“Shit.” He drags a hand down over his face as he wonders what the best course of action is now. Should he ignore the conversation, try to forget it ever happened? Should he call Jimmy and confess what was probably, at least a bit, venturing into the realm of infidelity? He knows that won’t end well at all. Jimmy has made it perfectly clear that his twin is off limits. Finding out that Dean had even spoken to Cas will probably piss him off, but Dean confessing to jacking off while listening to Cas talk dirty about pie will most likely end in a breakup. 

He doesn’t want that though, so he tries to think of a third option. Maybe he should call Charlie. That girl is a problem solver if ever he knew one. But… this is kind of embarrassing, and definitely personal. He thinks that he wants to deal with it on his own. And besides, it was only a one-time thing, purely accidental… mostly. 

Dean puts the phone back down on the nightstand and picks up the coffee cup again, sipping methodically while he racks his brain for a solution. Finally, he thinks of something that might work. He gets up and gets dressed – throwing on a pair of comfy sweats and an old AC/DC t-shirt and slipping on a pair of beat-up sneakers. Then he re-enters the kitchen and gets to work.

 

Two hours later he’s snapping a picture on his phone of his cooling pecan pie. He deliberates for a few moments but eventually pulls up Cas’s contact and sends the pic in a message. He’s not sure exactly what to say so he sends it without any text, leaving it up to Cas to respond. This way, he figures, he’s got plausible deniability if the previous night’s conversation is ever brought up again. Of course he was actually talking about pie – look! Here’s the pie to prove it! 

The message is marked ‘sent’ and Dean stares at the screen, half expecting Cas to respond immediately. When that doesn’t happen, and the screen times out and goes dark, Dean starts to second guess himself. Instead of sitting around and wallowing in self-doubt though, he decides to take a shower and get some chores done. Cas will respond, or he won’t. Either way, Dean figures that keeping busy won’t hurt. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Settling into yet another hotel room, Castiel pulls out his cell phone to send a text letting Gabriel know that he’d made it. Since he’s been out of the country, Gabriel has been his main point of contact for things like ‘checking in’ and idle conversation, such as it is. He’d promised Jimmy that he would keep in touch, but other than the occasional text response or company email he hasn’t been able to bring himself to contact his twin. Not after that last night before he left. 

He still doesn’t know if the voicemail had been intentional or not, and he still hasn’t been able to bring himself to delete it. Two weeks had gone by with no contact with Dean, and Castiel had thought that his infatuation had dwindled. He’d been strong and not listened to the voicemail again (though that hadn’t really stopped him from thinking about it pretty consistently). He had even gone out to dinner last night with a man he’d been doing business with these past few days. It had come to nothing though – Castiel couldn’t even bring himself to spend the night with him, though he’d been very attractive and perfectly nice. 

And then had come the unscheduled 5:00am wakeup call. Hearing Dean’s voice again after all that time had shown Castiel just how _not_ over him he actually is. Castiel has never been so happy to have someone call his number mistakenly. And what a call it had been! Some people may think that he’s naïve or inexperienced, but Castiel knew exactly what he’d been doing last night. 

He smirks at the memory of Dean’s nervous, halting explanations, interspersed with half-stifled moans. His previous conversation with Gabriel regarding Dean’s affinity for sweets, and pie in particular, had come in very handy when speaking to him early this morning. 

The pleasant memory reminds Castiel that he has yet to take his phone off of ‘airplane mode’ so he takes it out of his pocket and adjusts the settings. As soon as he does so, he notices that he has a text message waiting from Dean so he hastens to open it, curious as to what he’s going to say about their late night/early morning foray into the indulgent world of pastry erotica. 

To his surprise, instead of a stumbling apology or a nonchalant brushing off, Dean has sent a picture. What appears to be a freshly baked pecan pie sitting on a countertop. Castiel’s not quite sure what to make of it. Is it a reminder of their heated conversation? Or maybe a way for Dean to excuse said conversation? The not knowing is killing him though so he decides to give Dean a call to try and suss out the man’s motives. 

“ _Cas! Hey, how’s it going, man?_ ” He thinks that the nervousness he can hear in Dean’s voice is adorable and the confidence that Castiel’s gained from his successful seduction technique has him itching at the chance to make the man squirm even more. 

“So it’s ‘man’ now, is it? What happened to ‘baby,’ Dean?” He hears Dean laugh softly and it makes him smile to know that Dean will allow some light-hearted banter between them – hell, maybe he’ll even encourage it.

“ _I don’t know about that, Cas. ‘Baby’ is what I call my car. Maybe I need to think up something else for you._ ” _Interesting_ , Castiel thinks… He knows that Dean calls Jimmy ‘baby’ as well, but it was his car that Dean chose to mention instead. 

“Oh? Well, I can think of a few that might work. Though, I’d be curious as to what you might find fitting.” He decides not to push it, leaving it up to Dean to choose how far he wants to take this particular conversation. 

“ _You’ll have to let me think on that and get back to you, Cas._ ”

“Fair enough, Dean. So… I received your picture.”

“ _Oh yeah?_ ”

“Yes, I did. That’s one good-looking pie you’ve got there. Did it give you any trouble?” 

“ _No… well, not directly, at least._ ” That hesitance is back so Castiel encourages Dean to continue.

“Oh? So does that mean it indirectly gave you trouble?” He wonders what Dean could mean by that, his curiosity thoroughly peaked now. 

“ _Yeah, well, as it happens, I’ve got a slice of that pie sitting in my lap right now…_ ” Castiel definitely likes where this is headed… “ _It’s warm and perfect and smells amazing…_ ” Yes, this is very, very promising… “ _…and there’s a squirrel about two feet away looking like it wants to do me grievous bodily harm to get at it._ ” At that, Castiel bursts out laughing; the image of Dean squaring off with a tiny ball of fluff for the sticky confection is one that he hopes won’t fade anytime soon. “ _I don’t trust the little guy – I just know the shifty bastard has got his eyes on my nuts._ ” Castiel shakes his head but his smile stays firmly in place as he flops down into a squishy armchair that’s situated next to the balcony which looks out onto the city of Paris, the lights of the Eiffel Tower shining through the darkness. 

“We can’t have that, now can we, Dean? Where are you, anyway? I hope you don’t have wildlife invading your home.” 

“ _Nah. I’m actually outside on my balcony right now. It’s such a beautiful day and I thought some fresh air would do me good. Hold on a sec…_ ” Castiel gets up and opens his own balcony door, stepping out to breathe in the cool evening air. He feels his phone vibrate once and looks down to see that Dean has sent him another picture. He opens the image and sees a porch railing with a fat gray squirrel sitting on its hind legs, a gorgeously colored tree dominating the space behind it. What he assumes are Dean’s legs, swathed in a pair of soft-looking sweat pants, with bare feet and a plate holding a slice of pecan pie balancing precariously on his knees take up the foreground. The whole image is bathed in bright, golden autumn sunshine and it gives Castiel a feeling of longing and homesickness that he hasn’t felt in a very, very long time. 

He opens the camera app on his own phone and snaps a picture of the cityscape, bright lights shining in all directions, and quickly sends it to Dean before returning the phone to his ear. “It looks beautiful there, Dean. And you’re right, that squirrel looks patently untrustworthy. You’re right to be wary.” 

“ _Oh, don’t you worry. I’m keeping my eye on him._ ” The line goes silent for a few moments before Dean speaks again. “ _Damn, Cas, are you in Paris? I thought you were in Germany?_ ” Castiel hears the distinctive sound of cutlery on china and assumes that Dean has begun to eat his pie. 

“I was. I got in just before I called you. I had my phone restricted while on the plane, that’s why it took me so long to get back to you.”

“ _So… France,_ ” Dean says through a mouthful of pie. “ _They’ve got lots of pie there, don’t they?_ ” Castiel returns inside and shuts the balcony door, retreating to the warmth of the hotel room. 

“They do, indeed. I’m very much looking forward to getting my mouth on some.”

“ _I’ll bet,_ ,” Dean says, a slight chuckle to his words. “ _I’ve got my mouth on some right now and let me tell you, there’s not a whole lot of other things that I’d rather have my mouth on._ ” Castiel thrills at the innuendo, mentally calculating just how far he should attempt to take this.

“Well, Dean, I know one thin-“

“ _Shit, hold on Cas. Someone just walked into my backyard…_ ” Castiel goes silent, straining to hear Dean talking to someone in the background. “ _Hey, baby. What are you doing here? Aren’t you going out to your dad’s place tonight?_ ” Jimmy. Damn it. “ _Yeah, ok. Come on up, I’ll meet you inside._ ” Then Dean is speaking into the phone again with, “ _I’m sorry, Cas. Jimmy’s here so I’m going to have to let you go. But hey, keep in touch. I want to hear all about those French pies._ ”

“Alright, Dean. And tell Jimmy that I said, ‘Hi.’” 

“ _Yeah, that might not be such a good idea, Cas._ ” 

“What? Why not?”

“ _Nevermind. Look, I’ll talk to you later, ok?_ ”

“Of course.” He waits a moment for Dean to say more and when he doesn’t, Castiel looks down at his phone to see that Dean has ended the call. He pockets the device and sits on the end of the bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. He imagines that it’s Jimmy’s face instead, looking back at him. He thinks about how he would feel if Jimmy found out how he feels about Dean, about their thinly-veiled phone sex of the night before. It doesn’t feel good, that’s for sure. There’s guilt there, and pain at the thought of hurting his twin. 

But then he thinks about how he would feel if he never attempts to make Dean his; if he stops with the phone calls and the fantasies. And surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly at all, it’s worse. A lot worse, in fact. Instead of a persistent ache, there’s more of a sharp stabbing pain in the vicinity of his heart. His hands yearn to touch the man, to map out all the contours of his body and hold him close. His lips tingle with the urge to kiss him. He wants to make him smile and listen to him laugh, to hear his own name on the gentle sigh of Dean’s rich voice, to see him writhe and hear him moan and to know that it’s him that made Dean feel that way… only him. 

He knows now that it’s too late. For all he knows he was doomed from the moment he saw Dean. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen but he does know that Dean has a hold on him and he’s not ready for him to let go… not even close.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently I'm a lying liar who lies. I had said (in the comments) that this next chapter was going to include the scene where Dean and Cas meet face to face, but... the following scene that I wrote really got away from me. It's about as long as a chapter has been running for this fic so I just decided to post it and start writing more immediately. I really want to get the next chapter done asap so as not to keep you all waiting. I'm really sorry and I hope you forgive me! 
> 
> But hey! It's got Charlie! That's gotta count for something, right? ;)

The following day finds Dean in his garage, squatting down next to a 2005 Honda Accord, methodically replacing the lug nuts on the front driver’s side tire.

“ _No, Dean, that’s what they’re _supposed_ to look like._ ” 

“I don’t know, Cas. I think someone is just fucking with you. I know apple pie and that is _not_ what an apple pie is supposed to look like.” Dean makes one final grunt of effort while tightening the last lug nut on the Honda. " _That_ looks like someone took your apple pie and dropped it on the floor, and instead of getting you a new one they just slapped it back on the plate and Bob’s your uncle.” 

“ _I said that it’s _like_ an apple pie, not that it _is_ an apple pie. It’s called a ‘tarte tatin’ and it’s quite delicious, disheveled appearance notwithstanding. And I don’t know what my parents’ siblings have to do with anything, but none of them are named ‘Bob.’_ ” Dean wipes the worst of the grease off his hands with a shop towel and then picks up his phone to take it off ‘speakerphone’ and return it to his ear.

“It’s just a saying, Cas. You know, like, ‘there you have it!’… ‘Bob’s your uncle!’… same difference.” When Cas doesn’t respond right away, Dean attempts to continue with his lesson in colloquialism. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard that before. Ok, so say I’m telling you how to do something…”

“ _Oh, so like, you’re giving me orders?_ ”

“Yeah… and I get to the end of the instructions…”

“ _A completion of sorts?_ ”

“Sure… I reach a completion, and then I say, ‘Bob’s your uncle!’ to show you that I’ve finished.” Dean walks through to reception to collect the keys to the Honda. There’s no one in the room except for Charlie, who’s playing some RPG on her laptop at the moment. 

“ _I’ve heard quite a few things said during completion, Dean, but ‘Bob’s your uncle’ would definitely be a new one._ ” Cas chuckles and Dean feels his face flush when he realizes that he’s been set up. He can’t help but grin though; he really should have caught on sooner. 

“Ha ha, very funny, you little shit. Now _you’re_ fucking with _me_.” Charlie gives Dean a weird look but he just grins harder and rolls his eyes dramatically before taking a seat in the chair next to her. He hears Cas chuckle again, but this time he ends on a sigh. Thinking that Cas is going to try to end the call, and not wanting the conversation to be over quite yet, Dean thinks of something else to say. “You know, I actually do have an uncle named ‘Bob.’ Well, ‘Bobby’… and he’s not technically my uncle, but…”

“ _Oh?_ ” Dean feels like he’s digging himself into a hole here but Cas’s gentle encouragement seems to be all he needs to continue. 

“He’s a good friend of the family, but he’s really more like a second father to me and Sam.” Dean ignores the incredulous look that Charlie throws his way. This isn’t stuff he talks about very often but it’s not like she doesn’t know it all already. “He ah… he took us in, me and Sam, when we were teenagers.”

“ _He sounds like a very kind man._ ”

“Yeah, he is. He kept a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs when my old man was too drunk to remember that he was supposed to do all that shit.” Dean risks a glance at Charlie when she lays her hand on top of his and gives it a squeeze, but the redhead is focused back on her game. She lets go of his hand then but Dean appreciates the comforting gesture, as well as the modicum of privacy that she tries to afford him by giving her attention elsewhere. 

“ _Oh, Dean…_ ”

“I mean, it would have been fine if it had just been me – I can take care of myself, you know? But Sammy didn’t deserve to live like that so it was a real relief when we went to stay with Bobby.” Shit. He probably shouldn’t be saying all this stuff to Cas – he barely knows the guy. There’s just something about him that makes Dean want to spill all his deepest, darkest secrets. 

“ _I may not know very much about you, Dean, but from what I do know, I can assure you that you also did not deserve to live like that._ ” Dean’s fractious nature and poor self-esteem make it impossible to accept a statement like that without some sort of comment. 

“And how would you know that?” It comes out a bit snippy, but not nearly as aggressive as it might usually. 

“ _Well, besides what I’ve learned about you through our own conversations… your brother talks about you a great deal, Dean. Probably more than he even realizes. He admires you a lot. It’s obvious to anyone that hears him speak about you that he cares about you very much and believes that above all, you deserve to be happy._ ” Cas’s words cause Dean to blush again. He always feels so damn awkward when people say nice things about him. Like, what is he supposed to say to that? Well, deflection has always been a decent hand to play…

"So kind of like you and your brother then?” Cas is silent on the other end of the line for the space of several heartbeats, and when he does speak, he sounds sad… though Dean can’t imagine why. 

“ _Yes. Jimmy and I have always been very close… and I do truly believe that he deserves happiness. It’s just…_ ” Cas appears to think better of whatever it was that he was going to say, but Dean is curious… 

“It’s just what?” he prompts. 

“ _It’s just nothing. I’m sorry, Dean, but I’m getting another call. I’m going to have to let you go._ ” He sounds resigned, but not angry, Dean thinks. Maybe he really is getting another call. 

“Oh, well that’s ok. I understand. Talk to you later?” Dean realizes how hopeful and needy that sounded so he tries to temper it with, “Or, you know, whatever…” _Real smooth, Winchester_ , Dean thinks to himself. 

“ _Yes, Dean… we’ll talk again soon. Have a lovely evening._ ” 

“You too, dude.” Ugh. ‘Dude?’ Seriously? ‘Dude?!’ Dean makes a weird face, screwing one eye closed while the opposite eyebrow shoots up and his mouth contorts into a pained grimace. He hears Cas chuckle though before he disconnects the call and then Dean lets his forehead drop to the desk with a solid ‘thunk.’ 

“So,” Charlie begins. “Sounds like you and Jimmy are getting pretty close. He’s already getting the grand tour of the inner sanctum of Dean Winchester’s soul!” Dean raises his head but busies himself with moving the mouse to wake up the computer screen in front of him. It’s a delaying tactic, as well as a way to avoid having to look Charlie in the eye for as long as possible. “I wasn’t privy to all those sordid details until knowing you for months! This must be getting serious.” For some reason, Dean doesn’t really want to talk about his newfound friendship (or acquaintanceship, whatever) between him and Cas with Charlie. But he can’t lie to her and he figures that it will be less awkward to talk about it with her than with Sam, so… 

“Uhhh… that wasn’t Jimmy. It was Cas.” He may hope that Charlie will leave it at that, but he knows she won’t.

“Cas? As in, Jimmy’s _twin brother_ , Cas?!” Dean cringes at the slightly outraged inflection that she gives those two words before sighing and turning to face his friend. 

“As in, my friend, Cas… who just so happens to be Jimmy’s brother as well.” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant, but Charlie is having none of it. She slaps him hard on one of said shoulders and Dean exclaims, “Ow!” before rubbing the offending spot. “What the hell was that for?!”

“You’ve been talking to Jimmy’s brother? Does Jimmy know about this? Oh my god, Dean, are you cheating on Jimmy?!” Charlie’s eyes are huge and unbelieving as they lock on Dean’s, not letting him look away. 

“No! Jesus, you sound just like Sam when you get all riled up.” She visibly calms at that but doesn’t completely let her guard down. “And no, Jimmy doesn’t know about it…” She perks up again, raising one imperious eyebrow at the new information. “I didn’t see the point in telling him. Cas and I just talk… it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.” He pointedly doesn’t look in Charlie’s eyes as he says that last – Saturday night’s ‘phone-sex-in-everything-but-name’ encounter at the forefront of his mind. 

“What do you two talk about?” Dean knows that he’s blushing again (man, this is just not his day for cool collectedness) as he continues to avoid Charlie’s gaze. He considers making something up but dishonesty has never been a facet of their friendship and he really doesn’t want to start that now so he tries to tell the truth while staying purposely vague. 

“You know… stuff.” Well, that’s vague all right.

“Stuff?” Ok, so maybe he’ll have to be a little less vague.

“Yeah… stuff. Like, you know, how it’s going, what we’re doing… what we’re eating…” Charlie’s eyes narrow rapidly, a hawk zeroing in on its prey…

“And what exactly did you happen to be eating when you two ‘talked?’” Air quotes and everything… she’s onto him now. 

“Um… well…”

“Spit it out, Winchester.”

“Pie. Ok?! We talked about pie. Are you happy now?!” She gets a triumphant look on her face at his confession but it doesn’t last long, soon changing to one of slight exasperation. 

“You know how you get, Dean.” Ok, fair enough – he’s admitted as much to himself already. “One day it’s sexy pie talk and the next you’re telling him all about your unspeakable past – and I call it unspeakable because you _don’t_ speak of it, not because you _shouldn’t_ speak of it, Dean. But that’s beside the point…” Dean rolls his eyes at his friend’s long-winded remonstration. 

“It’s just talk, Charlie. I’ve actually never even met the guy face to face. He’s in Europe right now for Christ’s sake!” He’s feeling pretty defensive right now. He doesn’t know why Charlie is freaking out like this – it’s not like he’s cheating on Jimmy. 

“You know, there is such a thing as emotional infidelity, Dean. You don’t have to touch penises for it to be cheating.”

“ _Charlie…_ ” Dean groans.

“What? I don’t know what the hell it is two dudes do together in the sack – and I don’t want to know!” she clarifies. “It’s just… if you’re doing something, anything, with Cas that you don’t want Jimmy to know about? Well then you’re at least toeing the line of infidelity and you should probably think twice about what you’re doing.”

“Everything’s fine, Charlie. We really are just friends.” The statement gives Dean a squirmy feeling in his gut but he pushes it to the side and tries to ignore it. 

“Alright, Dean. I believe you.” Dean feels relieved at that, a bit of a weight lifted off his shoulders at his friend’s faith in him. “You know it’s just because I care, right? I know you, Dean. I know how loyal you are – to a fault even. I would just hate to see you tear yourself up with guilt if you did something that you regretted.” That squirmy feeling is back with a vengeance, and while there is some measure of guilt there, Dean can’t bring himself to feel even a bit of regret – and he doesn’t really want to contemplate that right now so he pushes it down again to think about another time.

“I know, Charlie… and thank you.” He pulls her into a crushing hug, squishing her face in his chest and dropping a kiss on the top of her head before letting go so that she can breathe. “You’re the little sister that I never wanted.” It’s an old and repeated sentiment but it gets the laugh that was intended and the tension between them breaks enough so that things aren’t weird. He gets to his feet and grabs the keys to the Honda, turning back long enough to say, “For the Honda, just charge for the tow. There was nothing wrong with the breaks. One of the tires just had a big rock stuck up in there – that’s what was causing the squealing noise.” 

“Sure thing, boss. And hey, I’m here, you know… if you ever need someone to talk about this stuff with. I’m sorry if I sounded kind of judgey today but you know that I love you no matter what. And I’m always willing to listen.” The look on her face is so earnest and Dean knows that she’s telling the truth. He could probably kill someone and Charlie would still be there for him – kicking his ass and yelling all the while – but there for him nonetheless. 

“I know, Red. I love you, too.” She colors then and drops her gaze back to her laptop screen, a small smile lifting the side of her mouth. He doesn’t say the ‘L’ word very often, but when he does, he means it… and Charlie knows that. He flashes her an indulgent smile, even though she’s not looking at him anymore, before walking back through to the garage. 

He opens the door to the Honda and gets behind the wheel, pausing to take his phone out of his pocket. He taps on the ‘messages’ icon and brings up the image of Cas’s ‘not an apple pie.’ He considers, once again, deleting all of their messages and refusing to have any more casual contact with the man, but the memory of their conversation today brings a smile to his face and instead he blacks out the screen and replaces his phone in his pocket. All he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want the conversations to end. If anything, this feels like just the beginning.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to stop making promises that I may not be able to keep. I honestly did try to get the 'meet' scene into this chapter, but things kept happening to delay it and all of a sudden I'm almost 5000 words in with no meet scene in sight. What even is writing? I surely have no idea. 
> 
> Anyway... things will happen when they happen, I guess. I hope the extra long chapter makes up for it. 
> 
> p.s. The desserts mentioned in this chapter are actual recipes that one could make, were one so inclined. I don't know how to embed pictures or links (someday I will, hopefully) but if you want to see what they look like (spoiler alert... they look amazing!), copy and paste this... http://www.finecooking.com/recipes/french/pies-tarts-and-pastries/50134-50070.aspx

The next three days follow the same pattern as Monday had. Every day around lunchtime, Cas texts Dean an image of whatever delectable pie-like treat that he’s enjoying and he and Dean have a conversation about it, among other things. Pie-like is as far as Dean would go in describing Cas’s treats – Tuesday’s is something called a ‘peach-ginger galette,’ Wednesday’s is a ‘pear-hazelnut tart with a puff pastry crust,’ and Thursday’s is a ‘plum tart with a lemon shortbread crust.’ 

At first, Dean flat-out refuses to consider any of them pies, but with each successive conversation, and with each somewhat pornographic way that Cas describes how they taste, Dean’s resolve breaks down just a little bit more. Especially with the way that Cas has started jokingly referring to Dean as ‘sugar’ (at least he’s pretty sure that Cas is joking when he calls him that). They’d been talking about nicknames – because Dean has yet to come up with one for Cas like he’d said he would – and Cas said that he should have one for Dean as well, so he’d decided to start calling him ‘sugar’ because he likes sweets so much. Dean’s not complaining though – somehow Cas manages to make it sound endearing without even a hint of condescension. 

By 2:00pm on Friday, Dean has already checked his phone approximately twenty seven times in anticipation for today’s mouthwatering selection, narrated by Cas’s unbelievably satisfying voice. Dean really thinks the guy missed his calling in life – Cas’s voice is absolutely tailor-made for phone sex. Just thinking about it sends a spike of arousal to the base of Dean’s spine and makes his mouth flood with saliva. 

But the afternoon ticks slowly by and Dean’s phone stays disappointingly silent. When 5:00 rolls around and Dean is just finishing up putting all his tools away, a familiar figure enters the Novak garage and leans up against the hood of the truck that Dean has just finished servicing, a big smile on his face and a sparkle in those blue eyes that Dean hasn’t seen much of in the last few weeks. 

“Hey there, good-lookin’. Is that a socket wrench in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Dean smiles back at Jimmy, but it’s half-hearted at best. He’s in a funk and finding it hard to match Jimmy’s renewed good spirits. 

“Hey, Jimmy,” Dean responds, and even he can hear the despondency in his own voice. Jimmy walks up to him and places a hand at the back of Dean’s neck, dipping his face in to catch Dean’s gaze. 

“What’s wrong, honey bear? Had a bad day?” Dean scoffs at the ridiculous endearment, rolling his eyes but not stepping away. 

“Honey bear? Really, Jimmy?” Jimmy reaches up to sling his other hand around Dean’s neck as well, slotting their bodies together and placing a brief kiss on Dean’s lips. Dean wraps his arms around Jimmy’s waist and tries to relax into the embrace, though he’s not feeling particularly affectionate right now. 

“You don’t like ‘honey bear?’ How about 'love muffin?' 'Baby cakes?' 'Smoopsie poo?'” Dean levels him with a flat glare, conveying that he is not amused, but Jimmy just waggles his eyebrows and grins harder. “What? You’ve got a cute nickname for me, so I thought I’d come up with something for you too.” 

“’Baby’ is not _cute_ , Jimmy, it’s sexy. And besides, you haven’t been calling me much of anything lately – you’ve actually been avoiding me more often than not, and we haven’t spent any time together since Sunday.” To be honest, it hasn’t really bothered him that Jimmy has been making himself scarce lately, but in this moment Dean is feeling (somewhat unreasonably, he thinks) neglected by Cas, and apparently he has no qualms about taking those misplaced feelings out on Jimmy instead. 

“I know, and I’m sorry, Dean. I’ve been an asshole lately and you really don’t deserve that. But I’m here to make it up to you! What do you say… you, me, dinner, alcohol… mind-blowing sex?” Jimmy punctuates his offer with a slow, sinuous roll of his hips into Dean’s, but it fails to have the intended effect. 

“I don’t know, Jimmy. I kinda just wanted to relax tonight – have a quiet evening in.” 

“Oh, well, ok. That could work too. We could order in and watch a movie or something.” Dean doesn’t know how to decline an offer like that without hurting Jimmy’s feelings so instead he extricates himself from the other man’s arms and goes about locking the large garage door and collecting his personal things in an attempt to give himself time to come up with an excuse. When he turns back to Jimmy, he can already see the hurt in his face and just as Dean’s come to expect, Jimmy deals with that hurt by lashing out and being defensive. He doesn’t even let Dean try to speak before he says, “What’s your problem anyway? Why are you in such a grumpy mood today?”

“What’s my problem?! Do you really think you’re one to talk about grumpy moods, Jimmy? You’ve been like an emo teenager for weeks!” Dean knows why Jimmy’s been such a bitch lately though and a sudden thought comes to mind. “Wait… why _are_ you in such a good mood today? Did Cas finally call you?” It had actually been one of the last things that Dean had said to Cas during their conversation yesterday. He’d been lamenting Jimmy’s foul mood and begged Cas to give his brother a call, if only to make Dean’s life easier. 

“He did, actually. He called this morning.”

“Oh?” Dean watches Jimmy fold his arms over his chest and give Dean a scrutinizing look, so he turns away to organize the already organized tools on his work bench in an attempt to avoid Jimmy’s gaze. For some reason, the thought that Cas had called Jimmy, but not Dean, makes an irrational spurt of jealousy rage through his body. He also has the added adrenaline of fear at the thought that Cas may have told Jimmy about their phone calls, and he can feel his face quickly heating up. 

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, approaching Dean slowly while he continues to speak. “We talked for quite a while, Cas and me. He told me all about his trip – what he’s been doing, who he’s been _interacting_ with.” Jimmy hovers closely behind Dean, a bit to the side so that Dean can see, in his peripheral vision, that head of dark hair just over his shoulder. 

Swallowing audibly, Dean barely manages to squeak out, “Is that so?” as Jimmy slides an arm around Dean’s waist and hooks his chin over Dean’s shoulder. 

“Yep. He told me all about the big date that he has tonight.” Dean jerks to the side to face Jimmy, unceremoniously dislodging his startled boyfriend. 

“Date?!” Dean exclaims, but quickly attempts to temper his response with, “I mean, that’s a bit of a surprise, isn’t it?” 

Jimmy gives him a funny look but answers readily enough. “Not really, no. Cas isn’t one to sleep around or anything, but when he does find someone that he’s interested in he’s not one for beating around the bush. He’s always been the sort to take the bull by the horns, if you know what I mean.” He gives Dean a salacious look and Dean attempts to smile at him in return, but the flood of adrenaline has suddenly managed to find its way to his guts and he has an awful sinking feeling permeating his being now. 

“So, what do you say, hot stuff? Can we please get out of here and spend some quality time together? It’s been a long week and I’m done with this place. I just want to spend time with you – I don’t care where or what, just who.” He leans into Dean again, gently cupping his face with both hands and pulling him in for a kiss. This time Dean tries to reciprocate a bit more enthusiastically before pulling back to look into Jimmy’s bright blue eyes. 

“Yeah, ok. Let’s go.” Dean doesn’t know why he’d been reluctant in the first place, not really. He reminds himself that Jimmy is his boyfriend – he shouldn’t be more upset about one missed phone call than about three weeks of cold shoulders and bad attitudes. Besides, this thing with Cas, whatever it is (was?) is much less of a thing than Dean may have thought. It’s nothing really. Dean has a boyfriend and Cas has a date, and all is right with the world. _Though if that’s true_ , Dean thinks as he turns off the lights in the garage and follows Jimmy out the door, locking it behind him, _why does it feel so wrong?_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“…Dean?” Dean is busy checking his phone _again_ , so he doesn’t notice right away that Jimmy is speaking to him. “Dean!” 

Dean fumbles with his phone, blacking out the screen and shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. “Sorry, what?” Jimmy looks irritated at Dean’s level of distraction, which, to be fair is probably justified given that they’re in Jimmy’s car sitting less than a foot apart. 

“I was saying that we can go back to your place if you want but first I have to stop by Cas’s condo.”

Part of Dean wants to object to that course of action – not wanting to invade the man’s space in his absence without explicit permission. But another more insistent part is itching at the chance to see what Cas’s home is like. So he says nothing, instead just giving Jimmy a brief nod.

They pull up to the entrance of the underground parking and Jimmy gives the guard on duty a key card to swipe, flashing him a charming smile as he does so. 

“Good evening, Mr. Novak. How are you today?”

“I’m doing well, Jeremy… and yourself?” Jeremy’s wide smile drops noticibly when he leans down to hand Jimmy back his card, the sight of Dean in the passenger seat seeming to come as something of a surprise to the handsome young man.

“Oh…” He straightens back up and Dean can no longer see his face, but he can hear the obvious disappointment in his voice. “Um… very good. Thank you for asking, Mr. Novak… sir.” Jimmy flashes Jeremy another mega-watt smile and gives him a wink before driving forward into the dark recesses of the parking garage. 

“Should I be worried about that?” Dean asks. Jimmy seems to be headed for a specific destination – the car winding around pillars with practiced ease. 

“Should you be worried about what?” Jimmy responds, his attention focused on the task at hand.

Dean rolls his eyes even though Jimmy isn’t looking at him. “Should I be worried about the love-sick puppy manning the guard booth… you know, the one with the ‘take me now’ vibe rolling off him in waves.”

“What?” Jimmy laughs, finally turning to look at Dean. 

“Dude, don’t tell me that you didn’t notice.” Jimmy lifts one eyebrow in a confused expression and Dean rolls his eyes again, this time to full effect. “Baby, the kid is obviously crushing hard. He wants you.” Jimmy laughs again as he pulls into a numbered parking spot and turns off the ignition. 

“Jeremy doesn’t want _me_ , Dean. Cas, on the other hand… I’m pretty sure the kid would cut off his own arm for half a chance to be with my brother.” Dean gives Jimmy an incredulous look, but before he has a chance to respond to that, Jimmy opens up his door and says, “Let’s go,” before quickly getting out and shutting the door behind him. 

Following his lead, Dean also exits the car and joins Jimmy who is waiting by the nearby bank of elevators. The doors open soon after and they enter the car, Jimmy swiping the same access card before pushing the button for the seventy first floor. As soon as the doors close again, Jimmy grabs Dean by the open sides of his jacket, pulling him flush with Jimmy’s body as he backs himself up against one of the walls. 

Dean places his hands on the wall, one on either side of Jimmy’s head as his boyfriend begins mouthing at his neck, kissing and nibbling over the somewhat scruffy expanse of skin. “Aren’t there cameras in here, Jimmy?” Dean asks, refusing to allow himself the full pleasure of the experience. 

“Probably,” Jimmy responds, seeming completely unbothered at the possibility. “Wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, looking up into Dean’s face with a devious smirk. 

“I don’t know, Jimmy… don’t really feel like getting arrested for public indecency in your brother’s building. Couldn’t that get him in trouble too?” Usually Dean would be more than willing to take the risk but for some reason the thought of Cas getting blamed for Dean’s poor decision making and inability to keep it in his pants just doesn’t sit right with him. 

Jimmy huffs a sigh and pushes Dean away from him, folding his arms over his chest and facing the elevator door while they wait for the car to reach the proper floor. The soft ‘ding’ sounds soon after and Dean follows Jimmy out of the car. He walks up to one of only three doors in the hallway (one being the door to the staircase) and pulls out a key, unlocking the door and motioning for Dean to precede him into the condo. 

Jimmy follows him in and locks the door behind him before pocketing his keys and removing his suit coat. He walks through to the kitchen and drapes the coat over the back of a high-backed bar stool. Dean follows, looking around and trying to take in everything that he sees. The space is tidy and luxurious, though sleek and modern at the same time. The materials are all quality – granite and hardwood, state of the art appliances and museum-quality lighting fixtures. It’s impressive, and Dean is surprised to find that it’s comfortable as well. He never thought he’d be one for fancy living spaces (or fancy anything for that matter), but he could see enjoying spending time in a place like this – getting to cook in a kitchen like this alone would be pretty amazing, he imagines. 

He’s broken out of his reverie by the sound of Jimmy removing the cork on a bottle of red wine. He pours out two glasses and hands one to Dean before clinking their glasses together and taking a sip. Dean looks down at his glass but doesn’t drink – it’s not because he doesn’t like wine (though he actually doesn’t care much for it), it’s because he’s confused as to why they’re here in the first place. 

“Jimmy, why are here? And won’t Cas be pissed at us for drinking his booze?” Jimmy finishes all the wine in his glass and lets it clink down just a little bit too hard when he sets it back down on the kitchen island. 

“Cas doesn’t even like wine, we’re doing him a favor.” He turns around and opens up a cabinet under the sink, removing a watering can and proceeding to fill it up at the kitchen sink. “And yes, we’re here so I can water the plants and, oh, remind me to get the mail on our way out.” He finishes filling the watering can and turns back around to face Dean again. 

Dean takes a token sip from his wine glass and then sets it down and removes his own jacket, placing it on another stool. “Ok, need any help?” 

“Sure. Here, take this…” He hands Dean the full can and grabs a spray bottle for himself. “Why don’t you start in the bedroom at the end of the hall and work your way back this way. He’s got plants in every room so this may take a little while.” Dean nods and leaves the kitchen and makes his way down the hall to the open door at the end. 

Stepping into the room, Dean is amazed to see the stunning view of the city through the wall of windows on one side. It’s nearing the end of October and the days are getting shorter so the sky over the lake is already dark, the bright lights of the city in the foreground shining brightly. Again, Dean is surprised to realize that it’s a view that he finds enjoyable. He’s terrified of flying but this is different – yeah, he’s up very high, but he’s stationary. It’s simply beautiful and awe-inspiring, and Dean thinks that he could get used to seeing it a lot more often. 

Mentally shaking himself, Dean turns to take in the rest of the room. It’s another tastefully decorated, classy space – but it’s also warm and inviting, and Dean sort of wants to fling himself down onto the king-sized bed and roll around like a dog on a freshly-mown lawn. Shoving that thought to the back of his mind, Dean continues to scan the room, finally landing on the various pots of foliage dotted here and there. 

He moves around the room, watering each plant with care. When he gets to a small, soft-looking thing sitting on the dresser, he notices a bunch of picture frames and one in particular catches his eye. He leans in to look more closely and sees that, yes, it’s a picture of Jimmy dressed as Han Solo with his arm around an unfamiliar young man wearing a slave-Leia outfit. The image makes him smile but he’s interrupted in his silent ogling by the man himself, coming into the room and choosing one of the plants to begin spraying the leaves. 

“Hey, you never told me that you’re a Star Wars fan,” Dean says, putting down the watering can and walking up behind Jimmy. He winds his arms around Jimmy’s waist, ducking his head down to place a few small kisses to the back of his neck. 

“I’m not.” 

“But…” Jimmy abruptly turns around and wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, letting the spray bottle hang down behind Dean’s back. 

“So, I was thinking…” he says, placing a lingering kiss to Dean’s mouth. “Why don’t we just hang out here tonight? Obviously there’s nothing to eat here, but we could order in. Cas wouldn’t mind and we’re already here…” It’s tempting, but again, Dean gets an uncomfortable feeling about staying longer than necessary. He knows that Cas won’t be coming back anytime soon, and he trusts that Jimmy knows his brother better than anyone, but for some reason it just doesn’t seem right. 

Dean steps back and rubs a hand over his face, he doesn’t want to argue so he tries to think of a way to put it without sounding like a rejection. “Why don’t we just go back to my place? I made a peach pie the other day and there’s still some left…” Dean waggles his eyebrows seductively but it doesn’t seem to have the intended effect – Jimmy’s eyes actually narrow as a dark look takes over his face. 

“No,” he states. “I want to stay here.” Dean sighs and tries to gear himself up for the unwanted argument, but before he can protest again, Jimmy slants his head and gets a calculating look. 

“You know, I wonder what Cas is doing right now?” Dean moves his hand to the back of his neck and looks down to the floor. Ever since Jimmy had told him that Cas had a date tonight Dean has been actively trying not to wonder what Cas was doing at any given moment. It’s hypocritical, and inappropriate to boot, but the thought of Cas with another man – talking, laughing, sharing a meal… or dessert – gives Dean an awful feeling. He’s pretty sure it’s something akin to jealousy and sadness, all wrapped into one, and he doesn’t want to think about it, much less feel it acutely. “Apparently he’s been working with this guy all week and they’re finally going to spend the night together.” 

Dean makes a noncommittal noise, trying not to imagine Cas’s voice speaking roughly in someone else’s ear. 

“The sexual tension must be intense, don’t you think? A whole week of working in close quarters, leaning over one another to look at spreadsheets, denying a mutual attraction to get the business completed.” He steps back into Dean’s personal space, rubbing up against him with his body and caressing his chest with his lithe hands. “Paris is the city of love, after all. They’re probably ripping each other’s close off right now…” Jimmy swiftly removes Dean’s flannel before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and smoothly lifting it over his head, gliding his soft hands up the sides of Dean’s torso. 

Dean allows Jimmy to remove his shirts and then proceed to kiss his chest – wet, open-mouthed kisses on his skin – and Dean closes his eyes and tips his head back, trying hard not to imagine the scenario that Jimmy had placed there, and utterly failing in that endeavor. Though, if he’s honest, it isn’t a faceless stranger that Cas is with in the fantasy – it’s Dean. And he hates himself for it but his cock has no compunction and has decided to take a keen interest in the situation, hardening rapidly in his jeans. 

“They’re probably making their way to the bed, hands and mouths all over each other like they just can’t wait another moment.” Jimmy leans his head up to catch Dean’s unresisting mouth, taking a hold of Dean’s hands and bringing them around to land on Jimmy’s ass as he begins to walk backward toward the bed, Dean following helplessly. 

When they reach the bed, Jimmy reverses their positions and pushes Dean gently down onto the bed. He drops down to the floor and quickly unlaces Dean’s boots, kissing the inside of Dean’s jean-clad thighs as he does so. He removes Dean’s boots and socks and then slides his hands sensuously up Dean’s legs, landing at the button of his jeans before deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them. He distracts Dean by lavishing more kisses to his stomach while he removes the rest of Dean’s clothing, pulling his jeans and underwear down in one smooth motion. 

He stands back up when he’s done and Dean takes a moment to admonish himself for letting it get this far. He hadn’t even wanted to stay here for dinner without Cas’s say-so, and now he was about to have sex in the man’s bed for Christ’s sake. It’s a shitty thing to do – he’s well aware of that – but when he feels the bed dip again he looks down to see Jimmy crawling up on top of him, naked, and it’s hard to remember why he probably shouldn’t be doing this. 

“Scootch back,” Jimmy says, and Dean wiggles his way back on the bed, coming to rest with his head on the pillows. Jimmy follows and straddles Dean’s thighs, stopping to stroke Dean’s waiting erection a few times before leaning over to root through the closest night stand. He doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for because he lets go of Dean’s dick and gets off of him to crawl to the far side of the bed and look through the other night stand. Apparently triumphant in his quest, Jimmy shouts, “Success!” and then crawls back over to straddle Dean once again – a brand-new bottle of lube in one hand and a condom in the other. 

He tosses the condom down next to them and quickly opens the lube, slicking up three of his own fingers and then dropping the bottle down as well. He then bends forward and swallows Dean down, reaching behind himself to begin the task of opening himself up while he sucks and bobs. 

It feels good, he won’t deny that, but Dean can’t help but tense up a bit. Without the distraction of Jimmy’s voice (so much like his brother’s) egging him on, it’s hard to let go completely. He thinks that Jimmy probably senses as much because he pulls off Dean’s dick, and sits up straight, never taking his eyes off of Dean’s face or his fingers out of his own ass. 

He leaves his other hand on Dean though, stroking intently with the help of his spit to ease the glide. “Do you think they’ve gotten this far yet, Dean? One of them getting nice and open, ready for the other’s dick? Maybe one of them is getting their dick sucked – can you imagine it, Dean?” He leans back down to blow Dean some more, this time moaning loudly as best he can. Dean’s moans join Jimmy’s and he closes his eyes to try to focus on the sounds and the feeling, gripping Jimmy’s hair tightly without hindering the movement of his head. 

It’s not too long before Jimmy is pulling back again, this time to rip open the condom packet and roll it down over Dean’s throbbing dick. He then positions himself above Dean’s lap and steady’s Dean’s cock with one hand, slowly sinking down until he’s fully seated. 

“ _Fuuuuck…_ ” Dean opens his eyes again when he hears Jimmy chuckle, feeling him start to roll his hips back and forth. It’s a tight fit, Jimmy probably didn’t spend as much time as he should have prepping himself, but it feels good and he doesn’t seem to be in pain so Dean just lays back and tries to enjoy the ride. It’s good, there’s no denying that – Jimmy’s tight ass working Dean’s cock, slowly at first and then picking up speed – but there’s something missing… “Talk to me, baby. I need to hear your voice.” 

Jimmy stills for a moment but resumes pretty quickly, leaning down so that his own erection is trapped between their stomachs, and his mouth is close to Dean’s ear. “Like this, Dean?” His voice is lower than normal, a gravely quality to it that isn’t usually there. “You want me to tell you how good you are? How much I like you fucking me?” 

Dean places his hands on Jimmy’s hips, holding him in place as Dean fucks up into Jimmy’s tight hole, his balls slapping loudly against his ass even at this angle. “ _Yes_ , fuck, baby. Tell me!” 

“I love it, Dean. It feels so fucking good, you have no idea.” He moans and pants, doing his best to bring himself closer by rutting his own leaking dick between them. “Yes! Right there! Fuck me harder, Dean… make me come!” Dean does as he’s told, fucking harder while keeping the position the same, feeling his own impending orgasm getting closer and closer. 

Jimmy moans loudly and Dean feels a warm wetness covering his stomach, the body above him slumping down as he shudders his release. He rallies rather quickly though, leaning up enough to press a hard kiss to Dean’s mouth, fucking his tongue inside as Dean continues to fuck Jimmy’s ass. 

Tiring of his position, and desperate to find his own release, Dean surges forward and flips Jimmy onto his back, rolling with him so that they remain joined. He presses Jimmy’s legs flat to the sides and lies down on top of him, boxing Jimmy’s head in with his forearms so that their faces are mere inches apart. He kisses him once on the mouth and then leans his head down even further to mouth at his neck. He’s close – so close – but it’s not until Jimmy places his mouth next to Dean’s ear and whispers, “Come for me, sugar,” that he falls over that edge. He comes hard, face buried in Jimmy’s neck while his cock is buried in his ass, his dick pumping out copious amount of come. 

He wants to stay there, to just fall into a sated oblivion for the next week, but he knows he can’t. So he groans as he pulls back, gripping the base of the condom as he slides his softening dick out of Jimmy’s thoroughly used hole. He pulls it off completely then and ties the end, merely dropping it down onto the floor on the side of the bed instead of looking for a nearby garbage can. 

He lays down again then, on his back this time, and Jimmy rolls over to assume his customary position – head snaked under Dean’s arm to rest on his shoulder, arm thrown across his chest, and leg bent at the knee, a solid weight on Dean’s own thigh. He sighs dreamily then, snuggling as close to Dean as he can get and proceeding to fall asleep as Dean runs a hand through his hair – apparently not at all bothered by the mess of bodily fluids covering them and the sheets. 

Dean is tired too, more so in body than in mind, but sleep doesn’t come. Now that the passion has passed, there are various different shades of remorse clouding up his mind and he thinks a bit of distance might help. So he carefully removes himself from the bed, and the sleeping octopus within, and goes to use the attached bathroom, grabbing his boxer briefs along the way.

He finishes relieving himself and cleaning himself up but he doesn’t want to go back to bed so he heads to the kitchen to retrieve his phone from his jacket pocket. He sits down at the island and automatically opens his text messages. There aren’t any unread messages but he goes into the thread with Cas anyway, and surprisingly there are two messages that he knows for a fact that he has not seen. The first is a picture of a very elaborate and fancy-looking pie – it has a cream filling and is topped with apple slices rolled up to look like roses. 

The second message is an actual text – it says, _Apple rosette tart, with maple cream. How’s that for a pie, sugar?_ It makes him smile – the thought that Cas hadn’t forgotten him after all making a warm feeling spread throughout his chest. But the warm feeling is soon replaced with an acute sense of ice-cold dread as he realizes two things…

One… If there were no new notifications for these two texts, then that means that someone has already looked at them – someone who was not Dean. And… 

Two… Jimmy said something in bed tonight that Dean had taken for granted at the time – something that he’s never said before… He had called Dean, ‘sugar.’


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning... apparently things are going to get a lot more fucked up before they get any better.

The sudden vibration in his hand jolts Dean out of his silent internal panicking. He fumbles with his cell phone, almost dropping it in his haste to check the caller ID. ‘Cas Calling’ flashes across the screen and Dean considers declining the call – for all of two seconds – before instead hitting ‘accept’ and bringing the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey, Cas,” he says quietly, getting up and peeking out into the hallway to make sure that he’s still alone. 

“ _Dean? I’m sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t think it was very late there…_ ”

“No, I was awake. It’s just… well, I’m not alone and he _is_ sleeping.” By some sort of unspoken agreement, Cas and Dean usually avoid talking about Jimmy. It really doesn’t make much sense. He’s Cas’s brother and Dean’s boyfriend – he’s one of the most important links between them so it would only make sense for them to talk about him often. But they don’t. In fact, they seem to talk about anything and everything _except_ Jimmy. 

“ _Oh… right. Well, in that case… maybe I should let you go._ ” He should. He’s almost positive now that Jimmy has seen the texts between Cas and himself. Not that there’s a whole lot to discern from those alone – it’s mostly pictures, a few words here and there. But for Jimmy, who’s fully aware of Dean’s tasty predilections, a picture is most definitely worth a thousand words. Dean’s sure that Jimmy knows that there’s something going on between the two of them, even though he probably doesn’t know what. Though, how could he? Dean’s not even sure exactly what it is that they’re doing. And of course, because hanging up is what he _should_ do… Dean, being Dean, does the opposite. 

“So you finally pick a pie that actually, mostly looks like a pie – and it’s got apples, which just so happen to be my favorite – and now you’re not even going to tell me how it tastes? That’s low, man.” As Dean speaks, he makes his way into the large, open living room, trying to put as much distance between him and the room at the end of the hall as possible. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a tease?” 

“ _Oh, _I’m_ a tease?! Dean, do you have any idea-_ ” The rest of Cas’s sentence is drowned out by the loud tolling of a stately old grandfather clock in the corner of Cas’s living room. Dean looks and sees that it’s eight o’clock and then runs over to peek down the hall again, making sure that the noise hasn’t woken Jimmy. Neither of them attempt to speak until the tolling has ended, but when it has, Cas asks something that Dean hadn’t even thought to be concerned about and thus hasn’t thought about how to answer. “ _Dean… where are you right now?_ ” And fuck, shit, fuck, goddamnit! Of course Cas would be familiar with the sound of his own damn clock. What should he say?!

“Um… well… you see, the thing is…” Dean’s stomach twists in on itself. Can he tell Cas the truth? Should he lie? 

“ _Are you in my condo, Dean?_ ” His voice doesn’t sound angry, but it isn’t exactly happy-sounding either. 

“Yes?” Well, truth it is, he guesses. 

“ _Is that supposed to be a question?_ ” Dean laughs, he can’t help it. He’s starting to feel a bit sick with all the spikes of adrenaline of the last little while, not to mention the fear of Jimmy walking in any minute and catching Dean on the phone with Cas. Dean thinks, not for the first time, that these Novak brothers might just be the death of him… or at least the cause of several stomach ulcers. “ _What are you doing in my condo, Dean?_ ” 

“Well… we stopped by so that Jimmy could water your plants, and get your mail, you know…” He pauses, letting the silence stretch out between them, each second that he can’t think of an innocent excuse feeling like an eternity. 

“ _And...?_ ” Cas says, prompting him to continue. 

“And…” _Just spit it out!_ Dean thinks. Cas knows his brother. He probably won’t even be surprised. It doesn’t make it any less embarrassing though. “… that’s exactly what I was doing.” 

“ _Ok…_ ”

“But Jimmy had other ideas.” Maybe he could leave it at that. Surely Cas would understand and not press Dean for details. He hears Cas swear under his breath though and the feeling of trepidation increases. 

“ _So what you’re saying it that you’ve just finished having sex… in my bed, I assume?_ ” Dean stays silent, not sure how to respond because he can’t quite gauge Cas’s tone of voice – is that anger he hears? Amusement? Surely not jealousy… “ _You said that it wasn’t your idea. I’m curious, Dean, exactly how much convincing did it take? What exactly did he say to make you agreeable to something like that?_ ”

“He said that you wouldn’t mind.” Cas scoffs and Dean continues. He’s not sure why exactly – he needn’t really say more – but for some reason he feels like he has to mention the other reason he had caved. “He also said that you were probably doing the same thing.”

“ _Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?_ ” He’s pretty sure that Cas is aiming for outrage, but he can’t quite pull it off – and that gives Dean the courage to act much more cocky than he’s currently feeling. 

“He told me all about your date.” Now it’s Cas’s turn to be silent apparently. “Yep, he told me all about how the two of you have been working together all week and that you’d ‘finally decided to spend the night together’ – yeah, that’s how he put it.” Still nothing from the other end of the line. “Was he wrong?” 

“ _Jimmy always has been prone to exaggeration,_ ” he says, and while that isn’t a ‘no,’ it also isn’t a ‘yes.’ 

“So you didn’t sleep with him?” Dean asks, seeking clarification, even though he knows that he has no right to know that information. But the curiosity is killing him and the words seem to tumble out of his mouth whether he wants them to or not. 

“ _Again, I find myself curious, Dean. Why does it matter to you whether I slept with Balthazar or not?_ ” _Balthazar?!_ Dean thinks. What the fuck kind of douchey name is that? “ _I also find myself wondering how that would sway your decision one way or the other._ ”

Skipping over the first question completely, Dean chooses to only answer the second, and only in a round-about way. “Jimmy paints quite the vivid picture. Actually, you two have that in common. Which reminds me… wasn’t there something about apples and maple cream that you were going to tell me about?” Dean begins to pace the room, hoping he can steer the conversation back to more familiar territory before it gets even more out of hand. 

“ _I think that can wait, Dean. Personally I’m more interested in hearing about what sort of ‘vivid picture’ could have led to you getting naked in my bed, against your better judgement, I’m sure._ ” Well, no such luck on the derailment front.

Dean sighs and halts his pacing. “He basically explained – in a 3-D, technicolor kind of way, mind you – how you were getting fucked too.” While that wasn’t exactly what Jimmy had said, it was, in part, what Dean had been imagining. “What can I say? I found it to be a compelling argument for some reason.” Point of no return reached apparently. How in the hell was he ever going to be able to talk to Cas again after this? 

“ _I see._ ” Dean waits for the anger or disgust which he’s sure must be coming next. “ _Well, Dean, as stimulating as I’m sure that was… I can assure you that he had it wrong._ ” 

“Oh yeah?” Fucking hell, Dean’s sure that sounded way too hopeful to be anything but telling. 

“ _Absolutely. Because you see, Dean, I don’t get fucked._ ”

“O-Oh?” Dean’s mouth suddenly goes bone-dry and he struggles to swallow, his throat making an audible clicking noise that he’s sure Cas can hear over the otherwise silent connection. 

“ _No, Dean. When I’m with a man, it’s me that’s doing the fucking._ ”

“ _Fuck…_ ” Dean says, closing his eyes and palming his cock. His mind jumps straight to a fantasy where he’s being bent over at the waist and ruthlessly pounded into while Cas’s gravelly voice whispers filth in his ear. It doesn’t last long though because in the next moment he hears what he just now realized he’s been half expecting the whole time they’ve been on the phone…

“Dean…?” Jimmy’s voice is slurred, and still halfway down the hall if he had to guess. 

“Fuck. Cas, I’ve got to go… Jimmy’s up.” Dean’s heart begins to flutter rapidly with his increasing panic. 

“ _This conversation isn’t over, Dean. I’m not done with you._ ” 

“Fuck… fine! Call me tomorrow, then. I’ve got to go.” Without waiting for Cas’s response, Dean hits the ‘end call’ icon and folds his arms across his chest, hiding his phone between his palm and his rib cage, just in time for Jimmy to round the corner and come into the room, rubbing his bleary eyes with one knuckle. “Hey, baby, have a good nap?” 

“It would have been better if I hadn’t woken up alone. What are you doing out here?” Jimmy walks up and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, forcing him to uncross his arms so that he can snuggle into Dean’s chest. Dean, in turn, wraps his arms around Jimmy’s shoulders and rests his cheek against Jimmy’s soft, dark hair. He doesn’t want Jimmy to break up with him – he’s sexy as fuck, not to mention that he genuinely cares about the guy – but he doesn’t know if he can keep lying by omission. Jimmy’s a smart guy – it’s not like he won’t figure it out. And that’s assuming he doesn’t already know, which he probably does. 

“I was on the phone.” Dean tenses, waiting for the inevitable fallout. 

Jimmy raises his head and looks Dean directly in the eye and says, “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

“Huh?” Maybe Jimmy hadn’t heard him… he should probably repeat himself. “I said, I was on-“

“I’m _starving_. What do you say we get out of here and pick up something to eat on the way back to your place?”

“Um… sure, I guess. Did you have something specific in mind?” Ok, maybe Jimmy hadn’t seen the texts after all. Maybe Dean had just missed the notifications, or had seen them and forgotten. Either way, it looks like Dean may be in the clear on that one. 

“Not really. Whatever goes best with peach pie, I guess,” he says, giving Dean a little smirk and a cocked eyebrow. Dean grins in return – he doesn’t know how or why, but Jimmy seems to have changed his tune. He hadn’t shown any interest in Dean’s suggestion of pie-based activities earlier in the evening. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth though, Dean puts that thought behind him and focuses on the sex-hair having, smirk-wearing, insinuation on legs standing before him instead.

“Like that, is it?” Dean asks, dragging the hand which doesn’t have a phone wrapped up inside it down Jimmy’s back to land on the swell of one perfect ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Exactly like that,” Jimmy responds, using the leverage of his arms around Dean’s waist to grind their hips together, his half-hard cock arousing the interest of Dean’s dick as well. “Come on – let’s get dressed and blow this popsicle stand.” He steps away then, grabbing Dean’s hand to pull him along to the bedroom. He begins to dress quickly but Dean falters, taking in the sight of the wrecked bed, with its various bodily fluids and general disarray. 

“Jimmy, what are we going to do about the bed? We can’t leave it like this,” Dean says, gesturing to the bed in question. 

“Don’t worry about it, Dean. I’ll come by tomorrow and wash it all. He’s going to be gone for another week. It’ll be fine!” Dean gives him a skeptical look so Jimmy pauses in his dressing, leaving his pants undone in favor of walking up to Dean and pulling him in for a lingering kiss. “Seriously, it’s ok. I’ll take care of it.” Dean nods his ok and disentangles himself so that he can get dressed as well. 

When they’re both fully clothed, Jimmy walks over and picks up the abandoned watering can and hands it off to Dean. “Oh yeah, I suppose we should probably finish what we actually came here to do.” He takes the can and heads toward the door, looking back to see Jimmy resuming his spraying of the plants’ leaves. “I’ll just…” He motions toward the door and Jimmy smiles at him.

“Go ahead, Dean. I’ll meet you up front.” Dean leaves Cas’s bedroom and proceeds throughout the rest of the rooms, watering as he goes. When he’s pretty sure he’s gotten them all, he returns to the kitchen to collect his coat and put the watering can away. He meets Jimmy there and the two of them make their way out of the condo, being careful to make sure the place is locked up tight before they go. 

Dean fights the urge to check his phone again, anxious to see if Cas has texted him, or maybe left a voicemail. He manages to avoid it though, instead letting Jimmy lean up against him in the elevator and exchanging soft kisses on the quiet ride down. They don’t speak, but the atmosphere isn’t tense, so Dean tries to focus on Jimmy and not to think about Cas. He’ll just have to deal with that situation tomorrow.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Damn it!” Castiel shouts, cursing his brother for his impeccable timing. He stifles the urge to throw his phone against the wall and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to ten as he breathes in and out. When he opens his eyes he looks over to the bed where Balthazar is sleeping – fully clothed and on top of the comforter. 

He really had planned on having sex tonight – a last ditch effort to get the focus of his raging libido off of Dean Winchester and onto someone else, anyone else. It hadn’t worked though. Even before Balthazar has passed out – way too drunk to be functional – he hadn’t been feeling it. His voice was too musical, his hair too blond, his eyes too blue. 

Castiel sighs, looking at the sleeping man. The truth is that, aside from the drunkenness, Balthazar is a perfectly nice man – attractive and successful too. But he’s not Dean, so there’s really no comparison. 

He scratches his head and then goes about stripping out of his suit to put on some comfortable sleep pants and a t-shirt. He’ll have to find an extra blanket so that he can sleep on the couch, but he’s pretty sure that he saw one in the closet. 

He goes to brush his teeth and get the blanket, and when he comes back into the room he hears his phone ping with an incoming text message. He picks up his phone and opens the message, but what he sees makes his blood boil – anger and jealousy spiking hard and fast throughout his body. 

The first is a text message from Jimmy that reads, ‘ _I thought that voicemail I sent a few weeks ago would have been sufficient but apparently I was wrong. What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Castiel? Dean is mine. You think you can take him from me? I’d like to see you try. Believe me, this is as close to having Dean in your bed as you’re ever going to get._ ’ The text is followed by a picture of Cas’s bed, looking thoroughly debauched – pillows and blankets strewn all around with suspicious dark spots here and there, and is that… yeah, he’s pretty sure that’s a used condom lying on the floor next to the bed. 

He spares only a moment to wonder to himself how this situation could have possibly gotten this far. This is him and Jimmy – twins, confidants, best friends. But add one handsome and charismatic mechanic to the mix and suddenly they’re Michael and Lucifer, practically trying to kill each other in order to lay claim to the ultimate prize. He wastes one more moment to wonder if maybe it’s some sort of genetic trait before he’s striding over to the bed and shaking Balthazar awake. 

“Hey, wake up.” Balthazar stirs and lifts his head, blinking owlishly at Castiel. “Do you think I could get away with teleconferences for the rest of the week?”

“Huh? What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” Balthazar looks around the room, probably trying to make sense of his surroundings. “Where ‘m I?” Castiel sighs heavily and pulls Balthazar up to a sitting position, leaning forward to speak directly into his face. 

“You’re in my hotel room. Look, something came up at home and I need to leave. Do you think that teleconferencing will be sufficient for the rest of the week or do I need to get someone else to fly out here?” He really hopes that it won’t come to that. He doesn’t think Michael will be too pleased to be called across the world just so Castiel can go home and fight Jimmy for Dean’s hand. Jesus, what has his life come to that he’s even considering this? Though, knowing Michael and Lucifer’s history, he thinks that his older brother may be somewhat understanding – though who’s side he’d take is still unclear. 

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem. You visited all the sites and laid all the groundwork last week. I was actually curious as to why you were planning on staying another week anyway.” Castiel nods and quickly walks over to the desk and sits down. He wakes up his laptop and pulls up a website to check flights back to the States. “Oh, wait. That meeting with the investors is Monday morning. If you miss that they could very well back out.” 

“Shit. You’re right.” He changes the flight date and time to Monday afternoon and finds a couple of flights that would work. “Ok. That’s alright. I’ll just leave after the meeting. A couple more days shouldn’t make much of a difference,” he hopes. 

“Fabulous. Can I go back to sleep now? Or are you going to join me? I’m up for round two if you are.” He rolls onto his side and props his head on one hand, patting the bed next to him with the other and giving him a somewhat drunken smirk, eyes still glassy from sleep and booze. 

“Balthazar, you can’t have a round two if there was never a round one. Just go back to sleep, I’ll take the couch.” He focuses his attention on booking the flight, putting in his frequent flyer number and his credit card information. 

“Suit yourself, darling.” He flops back down onto the pillow, closing his eyes and falling back asleep in no time at all. Flight booked, Castiel considers texting Jimmy back but he’s not sure what to say. He’s going to need to think long and hard about how he wants to proceed, and what he’s willing to do if he decides to go through with this.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13 is my favorite number, after all. ;) 
> 
> Oh, and sorry about the tropeyness of this chapter. Sometimes I just can't help myself.

“Are you even listening to me, Dean?”

“Huh?” Dean glances over to where Sam is leaning up against the work bench, arms and ankles crossed, with a (somewhat mild) bitchface fixed on Dean. 

“You have no idea what I was just taking about, do you?” Truly? No, he has no idea what Sam was saying. To be fair, Sam has a tendency to lose Dean approximately two minutes into any given conversation with the way he drones on talking about shit that Dean has zero interest in. 

This time though the fault probably lies mostly with Dean. It’s just before noon on Tuesday and Dean has spent most of the morning daydreaming about the previous weekend. 

It had been great. After they had left Cas’s condo on Friday, Jimmy had declared that he would be spending the entire weekend with Dean to make up for being such a pain in the ass the last few weeks. He’d been the perfect boyfriend – agreeable to any movie or tv show that Dean wanted to watch; helpful around the house – acting as Dean’s assistant in the kitchen, folding and putting away laundry, even accompanying Dean on a trip to the grocery store. And the sex had been fantastic! Jimmy had given Dean head like it was going out of style. And that’s not to mention all the hand jobs and the straight up sex. Dean would be surprised if Jimmy was able to sit comfortably for several days. 

The only contentious moment they had had the whole weekend had been in the afternoon on Saturday when Dean had insisted that if Jimmy intended to stay with him the entire weekend, then the both of them had to go back to Cas’s condo to clean up the bedroom. Jimmy had tried to shrug it off and say that he would get to it sometime before Cas returned next week, but his laissez faire attitude had made Dean nervous. So Dean had insisted that they go right then and there to put the place back to rights. Jimmy had grumbled about it but eventually agreed, and when they got back, Dean had rewarded him by making his favorite burgers. 

Which is actually what Dean had been thinking about when Sam was trying to talk to him. The burgers had gone cold before they had a chance to eat them because Jimmy had spent the time while Dean cooked sitting in a nearby chair, fingering himself with one hand while the other alternated between stroking his own cock and sucking off a cucumber. Dean was so turned on by the time the burgers were done that he had simply placed a cover over the pan and bent Jimmy over the kitchen table, fucking him hard and fast without even taking off his ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron. It had been awesome. 

“Dean!” 

“Jesus, Sam, what?!” He straightens up completely and turns around to glare at the hulking nerd. “Don’t you have work to do? What are you down here bothering me for anyway?” Sam refuses to let Dean get a rise out of him, merely shifting so that his left ankle is over the right instead of the other way around. Dean just rolls his eyes and goes back to tinkering with the engine like before. 

“So, are you going to tell me?” Sam asks, trying to bring Dean back around to the conversation that he was trying to have with his big brother.

“Tell you what?” Dean responds, upper body resolutely immersed under the hood. 

“Are you going to tell me what had you so busy this weekend that you refused to answer my calls and only responded with a single ‘busy’ when I tried to text you?” Dean smirks to himself when he remembers just what he had been busy doing when he sent that text. His smirk quickly falls though when he thinks about the other reason why he hadn’t been answering his phone over the weekend.

He had left the ringer off all weekend because he had quickly realized that Jimmy planned on staying right by his side for the foreseeable future and that there was a pretty good possibility that Cas would call him. He couldn’t answer with Jimmy nearby, so he ignored Cas’s calls all day Saturday and Sunday, hoping that if he waited until Monday, that Cas would still be willing to talk. Unfortunately, Cas hadn’t called at all on Monday and he hadn’t answered Dean’s attempts to get a hold of him either. 

So now Dean is left to wonder if his budding friendship, or whatever is was he had going on, with Cas is over, and he’s not quite sure how to feel about that. He thinks that he should probably be grateful – maybe look at it as a blessing in disguise – because that way he won’t run the further risk of fucking up his relationship with Jimmy. After this last weekend things are actually going pretty well and Dean doesn’t really want to do anything to jeopardize that.

On the other hand… He misses talking to Cas. It had been the bright part of his day the previous week, and the last two days he’s still found himself checking his phone obsessively, waiting for a text or a call that he’s starting to think will never come. 

He also can’t help but admit, if only to himself, that the fact that Jimmy has taken to calling him ‘sugar’ and lowering the tone of his voice when they’re in bed has made the sex better than ever. That’s definitely not something he should be thinking about right now though so he pushes it aside and does his best to give Sam a satisfactory answer to his question. 

“I was… you know… busy.” Sam scoffs, finally pushing away from the work bench to walk the few feet to where Dean is working. 

“Things are going well with Jimmy, I take it?”

“You know me, Sam… not one to kiss and tell.” Dean smirks at his brother and Sam rolls his eyes, clearly getting close to being done with Dean’s shit for the day. 

“Riiiight, Dean. And I’m sure you’ll also be taking the Impala to one of those quickie-lube places for her next oil change.” Dean straightens up suddenly and thrusts a greasy rag in Sam’s face. 

“You shut your mouth!” Sam leans back quickly and bats Dean’s hand away. “Don’t you dare talk about Baby like that!” 

“Fine. Be that way, Dean. Just keep on acting weird and refusing to answer my questions.” Sam starts walking toward the exit but turns back around midway. “Hey, do you want to get lunch today? Or do you have your regularly scheduled, one o’clock booty call?” Dean just barely manages to stop himself from checking his phone once again, but he realizes that Sam must be talking about Jimmy – Sam has no idea about Dean’s conversations with Cas, after all. 

“Nah. I might just skip lunch and sneak out an hour early today. Jimmy texted me a little while ago saying he had some last minute errand to run.” 

“Alright.” He turns to go again but swivels back once more. “Oh! Don’t forget to invite him to the party on Saturday if you haven’t already. And don’t forget that you’re in charge of the food this year.”

“I’m in charge of the food _every_ year. What makes you think I would forget that?” 

Sam shrugs, giving Dean an impish grin before saying, “Well, you seem to have forgotten that you’re not a horny teenager, what with all the…” He gestures to his own neck and Dean’s face pinks up when he recalls the hickeys dotting his throat – another thing that Jimmy has begun doing while they’re in bed together. He blushes even more when he thinks about the other places on his body that are covered with the little purple marks. 

“Jealousy is not a good look on you, Sam,” Dean says as he throws the rag across the garage. Sam avoids it easily, chuckling as he turns to leave – for real this time. He comes to an abrupt halt when he gets to the doorway though, a mask of seriousness falling over him in the blink of an eye. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Novak… sir.” 

“Good afternoon, Sam. I trust you’re well?” Sam steps aside to allow Jimmy to enter the garage, giving Dean an indiscernible look as he does so. 

“Very well. And yourself?” Dean cocks a brow at both of them, wondering why they sound like they’re trying out for roles on Downton Abbey or something. 

“Never better,” Jimmy says, turning toward Dean and clearly dismissing Sam. Sam nods to no one in particular and shoots Dean one more odd look before ducking through the doorway and going on his way. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“What’s with the voice, Darth Vader? And the hair…? You don’t usually look like that until _after_ you’ve seen me.” Dean saunters up to Jimmy and grabs him by his blue tie, pulling him forward until their lips are touching. Jimmy seems to freeze for a split-second, but then he’s responding quite enthusiastically, grabbing Dean by the back of the head with one hand and the lower back with the other, taking control of the kiss unlike he ever has before. 

Dean doesn’t know what’s gotten into his boyfriend but he’s not complaining. The kiss is incredibly hot, and it’s not long before Dean feels his jeans tighten and he rolls their hips together as he lets out an involuntary moan. 

Dean’s reaction encourages Jimmy even further – without breaking the kiss, he powerfully manhandles Dean backwards until his back is flush with the side of the truck. Pulling back for some much needed air, Dean lifts his head and lets it drop back against the truck. 

Apparently not one to be daunted by something like oxygen deprivation, Jimmy lowers his head a bit to attach his mouth onto Dean’s neck – licking and nibbling all over before sucking on the tender skin, seemingly intent on leaving yet another mark. 

“Hey, hey…” Dean grabs the sides of Jimmy’s head and pulls him up until they’re face to face, practically cross-eyed by the close proximity. “As much as I love this new forceful side of you, you’ve got to lay off on the hickeys, man… at least where everyone can see them.” Jimmy gets a wicked gleam in his eye and proceeds to begin unbuttoning Dean’s flannel, kissing each inch of newly exposed flesh. Dean mentally pats himself on the back for not wearing his usual t-shirt underneath today, and then rapidly loses all coherent thought when Jimmy sucks one nipple into his mouth. 

Dean moans loudly, cradling the back of Jimmy’s head as he sucks and nibbles on the small, pink bud. “Mmm… yeah, baby… harder… do it harder, Jimmy!” Jimmy stops suddenly, taking a quick step back and wiping his lips with the palm of one had. 

“Well, this is embarrassing,” he says. Dean wonders if he looks as confused as he feels. He doesn’t move from where he is, merely doing his best to clear his lust-addled brain and open his drooping eyes before he speaks. 

“Jimmy? What’s wrong, baby?” Jimmy runs his hand over his face once again and then brings both hands up to run through his hair, mussing it up even further. 

“Yeah… not Jimmy,” he says, shrugging his shoulders while holding his arms out to the side a bit, palms up. And wait… not Jimmy?! If he’s not Jimmy, then… oh holy hell…

“Cas?!” Dean racks his brain, trying desperately to remember Jimmy or Cas, or Sam for the matter, ever mentioning that the twins were identical… and he simply can’t. To be fair, he never actually asked. But he kind of just assumed that they weren’t since it had never been mentioned. Their voices are very similar, but that can be the case between any two siblings, and they’re not exactly the same. Their faces though… difference in expressions aside, their faces are exactly the same – practically carbon copies. “You’re identical?” 

“You didn’t know?” Cas squints his eyes a bit and cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing Dean in a way that makes him vaguely uncomfortable, like he’s a puzzle that needs cracking. 

“No, I didn’t know.” Dean begins to re-button his shirt, walking away from the truck, and Cas, as he does so. He feels irrationally angry all of a sudden, not to mention incredibly turned on. The combination is annoying. “But I’m actually thinking that that isn’t the most important point right now.”

“Oh? And what is the most important point, Dean?” Dean turns back to face him again, curling one fist loosely at his side while he points an admonishing finger in Cas’s face with the other. 

“That… right there. That’s the most important point.” When Cas doesn’t say anything in response, Dean rolls his eyes and gives him a pointed look. “You called me ‘Dean.’ You obviously know who I am, yet you let me kiss you… and you kissed me back.” ‘Kissing’ is a bit of an understatement but oh well. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I thought you knew. And I suppose I got a bit caught up in the moment… You’re an excellent kisser.” Dean reflexively licks his lips, remembering the feel of Cas’s hungry mouth on his. He sees Cas track the movement, the blue of his eyes darkening into a distinctly stormy hue, and Dean feels his cock twitch in reaction, as if to remind him just how fucked he is right now. If he thought putting Cas out of his mind when he was just a faceless man with a hot voice would be hard… now the bastard shows up here wearing Dean’s boyfriend’s drop-dead gorgeous face and sexy-as-fuck body. Dean’s not sure he even stands a chance. 

“Yeah, well, my excellent kissing skills aside… have you forgotten about my boyfriend? Your brother?!” Instead of seeing guilt reflected in Cas’s face (guilt like Dean himself is feeling), Cas just gives a slight chuckle and shakes his head a bit, slipping his hands into his pants pockets. 

“Is that still going on?” Dean gives him an incredulous look so he continues. “Look, Dean… _you_ kissed _me_.” Dean huffs at that but doesn’t say anything. “And I know how Jimmy can be – someone new is always catching his eye. So when you kissed me, I sort of just assumed that maybe he had moved on… and that you were doing the same.” He shrugs again, looking completely at ease, so Dean thinks that he’s probably telling the truth. 

“Yeah, but no. No ‘breaking up.’ No ‘moving on.’” While he speaks, Cas removes his hands from his pockets and stalks slowly toward Dean, causing Dean to walk backward in order to keep a more comfortable distance between them. “Jimmy and I are still very much together and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell him about this. I have a feeling that he wouldn’t be too forgiving about the misunderstand— Shit!” Dean stumbles backwards and almost falls when his foot bumps into a creeper that’s lying on the ground. Cas catches him before he gets too far though – grabbing him around the waist and yanking him upright, the overcompensation causing Dean to crash against his chest with their faces ending up mere centimeters apart. 

He quickly forgets what it is that he had been talking about when faced with the fathomless depths of Cas’s blue eyes. In form and function they’re exactly the same as Jimmy’s, but Jimmy has never looked at Dean quite like this… Like Dean is both the cause of his sin and the source of his salvation at the same time… Like he can gaze into Dean’s eyes and see through to his very soul. It’s heady, and exhilarating, and Dean can’t stop himself from closing his eyes, as well as the gap between them, and crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss. 

Once again, Cas quickly and easily takes control of the kiss, this time bringing the passionate meeting of mouths and tongues down to a more sedate pace – eventually tapering off and pulling back enough to catch Dean’s lust-drunk gaze. “Go to lunch with me,” he says, softly enough for it to be a request, but firmly enough for it to feel sort of like a command. 

“Yeah… ok,” Dean responds, leaning in again to resume the kissing. It’s slow and leisurely, but no less arousing for all that, and Dean’s in the process of working up to an incredibly impressive hard-on when he’s alerted to an incoming call from his cell phone – Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ playing loudly and insistently. 

Cas cocks a brow at Dean, who gives him an apologetic look and steps back to pull the phone out of his pocket so that he can answer it. A slight feeling of panic sweeps through him before he accepts the call but he tries to tamp it down so that it doesn’t show in his voice. “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Cas’s eyes narrow somewhat threateningly so Dean turns to face away from him. Out of sight, out of mind… right?

“ _Hey, Dean. Have you eaten yet? I’m on my way back._ ”

“I thought you were too busy for lunch?” 

“ _Well, it turns out that the meeting I was supposed to attend – the one Meg told me Cas had made but forgot to put in his schedule – didn’t actually exist. So I looked like a douchebag who has no idea what he’s doing and completely wasted an hour and a half of my day. So now I’m pissed _and_ starving and I just want to see you and kiss your beautiful face. Where do you want to eat?_ ” Dean squeezes his eyes shut, dreading having to tell Jimmy about Cas.

“Um… Jimmy? I sort of already have plans for lunch.” He risks a glance at Cas and sees that he’s looking pleased, as well as a little bit smug, and he files that away under ‘things to worry about later.’ 

“ _What plans?_ ” Jimmy asks.

“So, it turns out that Cas came back early from his trip.” 

“ _Oh, he did, did he?_ ”

“Yeah…” Oh, this is not going to go over well. “He came down to the garage to, um… introduce himself…” Cas snorts out a laugh in the background and Dean shoots him a glare. “… and he invited me to lunch.” Jimmy’s complete silence on the other end of the line is a bit scary so Dean quickly tries to fix the situation. “But hey! Why don’t you join us?” Then to Cas he asks, “Where are we going?” 

Cas looks like he wants to object but instead he just smiles and says, “Wherever you’d like, Dean.” 

“ _Ok, fine. But I want you to wait there for me to come get you, ok?_ ”

“You want me to wait for you to pick me up? Aren’t you like half an hour away?” Cas sidles up to Dean and neatly plucks the phone out of his hand and brings it up to his ear before Dean even has a chance to react. 

“Jimmy, hey, are you sure you’ve got time for lunch today? I thought you were busy with meetings all afternoon.” Dean hears Jimmy’s raised voice on the other end of the line and cringes when he remembers what Jimmy had said about the supposed meeting. “Ok, ok, fine. But we’ll meet you there. I’m not waiting for you to come all the way back here first.” He listens for a moment and then asks Dean, “Where should he meet us, Dean?” 

Dean thinks for a second and says the first place that comes to mind. “Dessert First.” Cas smirks at him and Dean looks away when he feels himself blush. 

“Meet us at Gabe’s new place.” Cas listens as Jimmy seems to shout some more, but before he’s finished, Cas cuts him off with, “Ok, see you soon. Bye, Jimmy!” and hangs up, handing the phone back to Dean but refusing to let go until Dean looks him in the eye. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell Jimmy what happened here today? I could do all the talking, if you like?” 

Dean yanks the phone out of his hand and stuffs it back in his pocket. “No. Definitely not. We’re just going to pretend like it never happened.” 

Cas steps up close and cups Dean’s jaw with one hand, sweeping his thumb over Dean’s lower lip and leaning in like he’s going to kiss him again. “And what about when it happens again?” 

Dean grabs hold of Cas’s wrist and lowers his hand down and to the side, giving him a stern look as he does so. “It’s not going to happen again.” He hopes he’s right but the fluttering feeling he gets in his chest at the way Cas’s lips curl up into a predatory grin tells him that he probably couldn’t be more wrong. 

“If you say so, Dean.” He walks toward the exit and for a moment, Dean just watches him go, wondering if he should just call this whole thing off. But then Cas turns back around to face him and says, “Come on, sugar. Let’s get you some pie.” Cas smirks again and walks out the door and Dean can’t help the pitiful whimper that escapes his suddenly salivating mouth. Yep… he’s completely fucked.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not so sure about this chapter so I'm just going to go hide in the corner for a while.

Castiel had chosen to take a taxi to the restaurant instead of trying to fight mid-day traffic. If that also means that he can sit closer to Dean and spend the drive time focused on him instead of on the road, well, that’s just a happy coincidence. 

He’d taken a calculated risk when he’d accepted Dean’s advances and given back as good as he had gotten. While he hadn’t exactly been lying when he’d told Dean that he thought Dean knew it was him – it was a possibility that he had hoped for, after all – if he was being honest with himself he knew that it was unlikely. But the opportunity to show Dean exactly what he was missing without Dean feeling guilty about it (at least not while it was happening) was just too good to pass up. 

And then Dean had kissed him even after Castiel was sure that Dean knew he wasn’t Jimmy, proving that his risk had paid off, and then some. Castiel definitely hadn’t been lying when he’d said that Dean was an excellent kisser. The vivid memory of the way those lips and that tongue had reacted to Castiel’s insistent attention had him still feeling the effects in his pants, and it took everything he had not to lunge at Dean in the back of the cab and devour him right then and there. 

“So,” Castiel begins, trying to take his mind off his body’s urge to finish what they had started. “Is mine different than Jimmy’s?” Dean turns his head from looking out the window to look at Castiel, confusion clouding his expression. 

“Uh…” Dean darts his eyes down to Castiel’s crotch and back up again, a slight blush tinging his cheeks. “I don’t… what do you mean?” 

“My ringtone. Is it different than Jimmy’s?” Relief is evident on Dean’s face but it quickly turns guarded and if anything, the blush only deepens. 

“I’d rather not say,” Dean says, hiding his face by resuming his staring out the window. 

Now the curiosity is killing him, so instead of trying to get the answer out of Dean directly, Castiel simply slips his phone from his pocket and dials Dean’s number. A couple of seconds later Castiel is not disappointed when he hears the chorus of a very familiar song start playing from Dean’s pocket… 

_She’s my cherry pie_  
_Cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise_  
_Tastes so good make a grown man cry_  
_Sweet cherry pie_

Dean moves so quickly to get his phone from his pocket that he fumbles it and drops it, causing him to dive down to retrieve it from near Castiel’s feet. The position puts Dean’s face inches from Castiel’s crotch and Castiel has to bite his lip and lift his head to look up at the ceiling in order to stop himself from holding Dean’s head in place so that Castiel can buck his hips up and shove his dick in Dean’s face. This car ride is proving to be a lesson in restraint the likes of which Castiel has never experienced before. 

As soon as Dean has a hold on the phone he seems to realize the very suggestive position that he’s in because he shoots up and back so quickly that he smacks the back of his head on the roof handle and shouts, “Fuck!” He rubs the back of his head with one hand and silences his phone with the other, all while shooting Castiel a murderous glare. The blush has deepened and spread as far as the tips of his ears though so Castiel just grins and laughs quietly. 

“You might want to turn the ringer off when you’re around Jimmy.” Castiel suggests.

“I do,” Dean responds grudgingly, clicking down the silencer on the side of the phone and putting it back into his pocket, this time refusing to meet Castiel’s eye. And isn’t that an interesting admission? 

They sit there not talking for several minutes, but the silence seems to get to Dean because he twists in his seat, finally looking at Castiel, and speaks. “So, what happened? I thought you weren’t coming back for another week?” 

“Well, yes that was the original plan…” Castiel shifts in his seat, angling his body more toward Dean, who mirrors Castiel’s movement, bringing them another couple of inches closer together so that their knees are just barely brushing together. “But there was something more pressing that needed my attention here…” He accentuates his words by pressing his knee more firmly against Dean’s. “So I decided to come back early.” Dean gives him a skeptical look but doesn’t make any move to decrease their proximity so Castiel takes that as a good sign. 

“Can you just do that? Won’t you get in trouble?” Dean asks. 

“I’m the boss, Dean,” Castiel reminds him. “I decide what I can and cannot do.” While not _completely_ true, it’s true enough for this conversation and Dean doesn’t question it further. “What about you, Dean?” 

“What about me?” He licks his lips and Castiel’s thoughts unravel momentarily, all the other wonderful places that Dean could put that talented tongue to good use flying quickly through his mind. He realizes that he’s been staring at those plump, wet lips while lost in thought so he clears his throat and shifts in his seat once again before speaking.

“I tried to call you. For two days.” Dean averts his eyes, letting them stray to a fraying hole in the seat between them. He sticks a finger in the hole, pulling on the edge in a side to side motion and making it a little wider with each pass. “I clearly recall telling you that we weren’t done with our conversation, Dean. So… what was it that had you so incredibly busy that you couldn’t answer the phone? Or were you just avoiding me?” 

Dean’s teeth worry his lower lip while he seems to deliberate how to answer that. Again, Castiel’s attention is drawn to his mouth and this time he has to stifle the urge to lean over and suck that lip into his own mouth before Dean has a chance to hurt himself. The urge passes when Dean sighs and brings his gaze back up to Castiel’s face. “Let’s just say I had my ringer turned off all weekend.” 

“I see.” Damn. He should have known that Jimmy would find a way to keep Dean from speaking to him. Knowing that Dean wasn’t intentionally ignoring him doesn’t do much to help balance out the knowledge of exactly what Dean had been doing during that time. The consternation must show on Castiel’s face because suddenly Dean’s speaking again and sounding markedly defensive. 

“What’s it matter to you anyway, I’m sure you were plenty busy yourself during those two days.” He assumes that Dean is referring to Balthazar again, and while he had spent Saturday morning with Balthazar – finalizing plans for the upcoming week over breakfast – the rest of the weekend he had been alone.

He had tried to work off the excess sexual frustration by spending extra time on the treadmill and doing laps in the pool. But he was only human, after all, and when the extra physical exertion hadn’t done much to dampen down his lustful urges, Castiel had finally broken down and re-listened to the pornographic voicemail that he had never gotten around to deleting. 

The knowledge that Jimmy had indeed sent it intentionally gave Castiel the somewhat dubious permission that he had required to listen to it again… and again… and again. Just thinking about it now – imagining the gorgeous man sitting in front of him making those sinful noises in person, spurring Castiel on with those filthy words… if they don’t get out of this car soon, what little will power Castiel is still capable of at this point will leave him completely and he’ll likely find himself being arrested – if not for assault then for public indecency at the very least. 

“It matters to me very much, Dean. I had been really looking forward to continuing our conversation.” 

“You had?” Dean asks. He scoots a little closer toward Castiel, his voice soft, his eyes focused on Castiel’s mouth. 

“Yes, Dean… I had…” Castiel responds, just as softly, his upper body finally losing the fight against restraint and leaning in to close the little distance that remains between them. 

“Twenty Four South Michigan Avenue!” Dean startles back at the sound of the cab driver’s loud voice announcing their arrival at the restaurant. He fumbles with the door handle, eventually figuring out how to work it properly, and then he’s gone, out of the car and onto the pavement as fast as his feet can carry him. 

Castiel sighs and curses their continuing troubles with timing. He pays the driver, including a generous tip, and then follows out of Dean’s side of the car, joining him on the pavement and then holding the restaurant door open to allow Dean to enter before him. 

Dean gives him a perfunctory nod as he passes by and Castiel takes the opportunity to watch Dean walk away from him – and just as he’d thought… Dean’s back is just as perfect as his front. 

When they get inside, Gabriel is waiting for them at the hostess stand, standard impish grin firmly in place. “Cas! Welcome home, baby bro! Did I get drunk and black out for a week or are you back early?” 

“I wouldn’t doubt if you did get drunk and black out for a week, Gabriel. But yes, I am back early.” He risks a glance at Dean before shifting his gaze back to his brother – not fast enough though because Gabriel also looks to Dean with a narrowed gaze before cocking a brow at Castiel with a silent question. 

“So, what happened? Did they run you out of town for getting a little too handsy with a yummy little intern?” Gabriel knows very well that ‘yummy little interns’ are not Castiel’s type so he’s pretty sure that his comment was not made for Castiel’s benefit. 

Before Castiel has a chance to respond, Dean butts in with, “Don’t you ever work around here, Gabriel? I thought you were a chef. How come I never see you in the kitchen?” 

Gabriel completely ignores Dean’s question, choosing to ask Dean a question instead. “Ah, Dean… good to see you, as always. So tell me… are you working your way through all the Novak siblings? Or is it just the twin thing that you’re into?” Dean darts his eyes to Castiel and back again, a slight flush beginning to darken his complexion. “Cause I’ve got to say, I find myself more partial to long-haired Winchesters, but I’m pretty sure Michael would be interested. Should I give him your number?” 

Dean’s embarrassment quickly morphs into anger when Gabriel mentions Sam – he pulls himself up to his full height and points a threatening finger in the shorter man’s face. “You keep your sticky little paws off my brother-“ Castiel places a restraining hand around Dean’s bicep, pulling him back gently. Dean lets himself be guided back but doesn’t take his stormy glare off of Gabriel’s smirking face. 

“What? You don’t like it when someone fucks with your brother, Dean? I can’t imagine how that feels.” His not at all veiled sarcasm has Dean advancing on him again but Castiel’s hand stops him once more. 

“That’s enough, Gabriel. Could you show us to our table now? Jimmy should be here momentarily.” Castiel’s ‘boss voice’ and stern countenance is effective enough to clear the air a bit, causing both men to take a step back and lose their rigid posture. 

Gabriel grabs three menus and starts walking into the dining room, slowly enough so that he can still be heard by Dean and Castiel. “I know. He called me already to tell me you’d be coming.” He leads them into a far corner of the restaurant, to a semi-circular booth that’s partially hidden to the prying eyes of the rest of the dining room. 

Dean takes one look at the intimate seating and asks, “Couldn’t you get us a table or something?” 

Gabriel smacks the menus down and turns on him while Castiel slides into one end of the booth. “Hey, you’re one hard-hat short of looking like a member of the Village People – You’re lucky I let you in here at all.” Dean scowls at that but doesn’t push the issue, simply sliding into the other end of the booth and picking up a menu. Gabriel spares one more serious look Castiel’s way and says, “We’ll talk later,” before walking back toward the front. 

Castiel looks through the menu while at the same time keeping one eye on Dean’s movements. The man is nervous, that much is obvious. Instead of holding the menu, he has it open flat on the table in front of him. It looks like he’s reading it but every couple of seconds he lifts his head to look in the direction that Gabriel had left – the direction from which Jimmy will arrive. Castiel can also see his body shaking infinitesimally and he realizes that Dean is bouncing his leg up and down, heel thumping against the hardwood floor. 

“Calm down, Dean. Gabriel can be a pain in the ass but he’s not going to say anything to Jimmy.” 

Dean swivels his head quickly from looking at the entrance to looking at Castiel – his eyes wide and frightened. “Shit. I hadn’t even thought of that. Maybe I should just go and you two can have lunch together. You know – catch up and all that.” Dean closes his menu and stands as he talks, but he’s stopped from further efforts at retreat by Jimmy walking up and slipping an arm around his waist, a big smile on his face. 

“Hey, sugar,” Jimmy says before planting a (somewhat inappropriate) kiss on Dean’s mouth. Castiel thinks that the amount of tongue is definitely uncalled for, but he knows that Jimmy is staking his claim and he supposes that he wouldn’t be doing much different if their positions were reversed. He tries not to let the sudden surge of jealous anger that he’s feeling show on his face. It wouldn’t do to let Jimmy think that he’s getting to Castiel. 

Dean is the first to pull back, smiling awkwardly, first at Jimmy, then at Castiel before easing his way back into the booth. He has to scoot in further this time to give Jimmy room to sit, which places him dead center between the two brothers – a position that he appears to regret as soon as he realizes it. 

“Jimmy,” Castiel says, nodding his acknowledgment of his twin’s existence. 

“Castiel,” Jimmy responds, just as coldly. 

Castiel has the sudden urge to laugh. The last time that they had acted like this around each other had been when they were around ten years old and they were pretending to be Michael and Lucifer in order to make Gabriel laugh. Being truly at odds with each other is unprecedented, the unreality of the situation making it strangely humorous. 

Dean doesn’t appear to be finding the situation funny at all though. His gaze is steadfastly fixed on the menu in front of him and his leg is bouncing again. It’s the leg closest to Castiel so he takes another risk and places his hand on Dean’s knee under the table, squeezing slightly as he does so. Dean freezes but he doesn’t look up, so Castiel leaves his hand where it is, rubbing small circles with his thumb while he continues to peruse his own menu. 

The silence at the table is soon broken when a devilishly handsome young man with very dark hair and crystal clear blue eyes approaches the table and asks for their drink and appetizer orders. He addresses the whole table but his eyes stay locked on Castiel, a sly smile firmly in place the entire time. He even shoots a wink Castiel’s way. Castiel makes a mental note to kill Gabriel later but for now he just orders a beer and a slice of cherry pie. 

The server, Damon, Castiel thinks is what he had told them his name is, moves on to Dean next. He orders a beer as well but decides to skip the sweets. Moving on, Damon asks Jimmy for his order but before he can respond, Castiel interrupts to ask Dean, “Are you sure, Dean? You were the one who picked this restaurant. Isn’t there something you want? Maybe something you haven’t tried yet?” 

Dean looks unsure and Damon seems to pick up on the weird vibe going on at the table because he cocks one brow and gets this wicked grin on his face, shifting on his feet into a position that seems to indicate that he’s getting comfortable for the show. 

“Dean is perfectly capable of deciding for himself. And I believe that he’s made that decision already, Castiel.” Jimmy’s look is fierce and Castiel is about to respond when Dean speaks up, directing his words at Damon, who looks disappointed that the twins’ argument was interrupted. 

“On second thought, I’ll try the cheesecake bites with the strawberry dipping sauce.” Jimmy looks sufficiently cowed and Castiel feels a burst of smug satisfaction. It’s short-lived though because Dean continues with, “We can share them, right, baby?” Dean looks at Jimmy when he says this and Jimmy looks back, a renewed smile on his face. He cups the side of Dean’s face and leans in to give him a brief kiss and Castiel removes his hand from Dean’s knee, decidedly unhappy with how the tables have turned. 

Damon gives Castiel a sympathetic look and then turns to wait for Jimmy’s drink order. “I’ll have a gin and tonic,” he says, his hand now linked with Dean’s on top of the table. 

“Very good,” Damon says, scribbling down the order on a small notepad. “I’ll have those drinks right out for you.” He throws one more wink Castiel’s way and then he’s gone. Not for long though – it’s only a matter of minutes before he’s back with their drinks, promising a very short wait for their appetizers.

“I was surprised to hear that you were back early, Cas,” Jimmy says, taking a sip from his gin and tonic. He has let go of Dean’s hand in favor of draping his arm across the back of the booth behind Dean’s shoulders. “What happened? Was the venture unsuccessful?” His mock concern is irritating but Castiel doesn’t let it affect his response. 

“Quite the opposite, actually.” He notices that Dean has downed half of his beer in one go, probably an attempt to gain some fortitude for the remainder of lunch. “My time away proved to be quite successful… And the business was fruitful as well.” He smirks and then takes a drink of his own beer while Jimmy glares at him, and then Damon is back, delivering their appetizers and taking their meal orders. 

When he leaves again, Castiel is quick to dig into his pie, scooping up a forkful, placing it carefully in his mouth, and pursing his lips around the tongs as he slowly slides it back out. Dean watches him the entire time, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. Castiel smiles as he chews, taking the time to savor the tart sweetness before swallowing. “Would you like a bite, Dean?” he asks, holding his fork out toward Dean, the bright red filling spilling over the edge. 

Castiel thinks that Jimmy must pinch him or something because Dean yelps and turns his head away from Castiel to see Jimmy holding a cheesecake bite, dripping with strawberry sauce, between his thumb and forefinger. He holds it up close to Dean’s mouth and he takes it automatically. Jimmy uses his own mouth to clean the sauce off his fingers and then licks his lips, throwing in a wink for good measure. 

Castiel’s pretty sure that he hears a slight whimper escape Dean’s lips and then he shifts his gaze back to Castiel, then back to Jimmy, then back to Castiel again before he speaks. “I… ah… I need to go…” His eyes dart around until they land on his own hands, his fingers gripping tightly to the edge of the table. “Ah… wash my hands. Yeah, that’s… uh… they’re covered in grease. I totally forgot.” He starts to scoot toward Jimmy, waving his hand to urge him on until he exits the booth so that Dean can escape. 

He wastes no time once he’s free, simply fleeing in the direction of the washrooms without looking back. Jimmy sits back down and takes a long pull of his drink, narrowing his eyes at Castiel over the rim of the glass. Castiel refuses to back down though. Dean was affected, that much is obvious, and it gives him the boost that he needs to keep this competition going. 

Forking up another bite of pie, Castiel gives Jimmy a wink of his own, a confident smile firmly in place. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sammy, _please_ … you’ve got to get to Gabe’s place, and I mean quick.” Dean paces the length of the bathroom with his phone up to one ear, his other hand running repeatedly through the short spikes of his hair. 

“ _His restaurant? I thought you weren’t going to lunch?_ ” 

“Yeah, well, I did. And now I need you to get your jolly green ass down here, toot sweet! You got me?!” A small, squirrely-looking man who’s washing his hands gives him a weird look through the reflection in the mirror and Dean tries to give him a reassuring smile. He’s pretty sure it just looks manic though because the man hurries to leave the room, not taking the time to dry his hands. 

“ _What did you do, Dean?_ ” Dean makes his way down to the last stall and locks himself in before responding. 

“Why do you always assume that I did something? Couldn’t it just be a matter of unfortunate circumstances?” He peeks his head up over the stalls to make sure he’s still alone. 

“ _Dean…_ ” Dean can practically hear the bitchface in Sam’s voice but he doesn’t have time to argue right now. 

“Fine. Look, Jimmy _and_ Castiel are both here, and I can’t tell you why but I need some backup, ok?”

“ _Are you getting fired? Do you need legal representation?_ ” 

“Jesus, no, Sam. I’ll explain later. Just get down here within the next ten minutes, ok?” Sam sighs loudly, but agrees nonetheless, and Dean ends the call before sliding the phone back in his pocket – Just in time too because right as he does he hears someone calling his name. 

“Dean?” Dean considers hiding and waiting out the next little while until the person goes away. But he’s never been a coward before and he’s not about to start now, so he flushes the empty toilet and leaves the stall. When he makes his way to the sink, Jimmy is waiting for him. He stands in silence while Dean washes and dries his hands, but as soon as he’s done, Jimmy pounces on him – pushing him against the door and doing his best to kiss him breathless. 

Dean allows it for a little while but pulls back eventually – as far as his position against the door will allow – holding Jimmy back so that he can speak. “Jimmy… Jimmy, wait.” 

“Wait for what? Come on, Dean… I want to make you feel good.” He moves down to kissing Dean’s neck while his hands trail down to land on Dean’s belt buckle, deftly sliding the end out of the loop and unbuckling it with a soft swish and clink. 

Dean feels himself getting hard quickly, the memories of the last time the two of them were in this room flashing through his mind. But then his thoughts stray to Cas and how he’s practically just on the other side of the wall waiting for them. He could even walk in at any moment, and that realization has Dean’s hand shooting down to grab Jimmy’s wrist just as he’s about to slip his hand into Dean’s pants. 

“Jimmy, stop.” To his credit, Jimmy does stop. He pulls back completely and waits for Dean to say more, a small frown on his face. “Hey, it’s not that I don’t want to, ok?” Dean steps forward and smoothly reverses their positions, kissing Jimmy softly once it’s his back that’s up against the door. “I want to… Just not here, not now.” He speaks softly as well – he knows from experience that Jimmy does not take disappointment very well and he doesn’t want to start a fight. 

“Alright, fine. But I want to see you tonight. Come home with me after work, ok?” Dean kisses him once more. 

“Ok.” Jimmy smiles at him and then he’s suddenly being thrown against Dean’s chest as someone pushes the door open from the outside. 

“Oh! Sorry about that.” Damon walks up to the sink and begins to wash his hands. Dean can see his face in the mirror and the guy looks pointedly at Dean’s crotch before looking back up to his face and cocking a brow, a very amused look on his face. 

Dean looks at him confused for a moment, but when he looks at his own reflection in the mirror he realizes that his belt is still unbuckled, his zipper still undone. He tries to play it off with a laugh and a smirk, quickly reaching down to do them up. But he’s pretty sure he’s not fooling anyone – the server just chuckles slightly and shakes his head. 

“Shall we?” Dean says to Jimmy, who opens the door and waves Dean through. 

“After you.” Dean spares one last glance at the snickering server and then he leads the way back to their table. 

When they get there, Dean is relieved to see that Sam has arrived. He’s seated in a chair that someone has pulled up to the booth, there not being room enough for more than three on the curved bench seat. 

The rest of lunch is much less tense, Sam’s presence doing a lot to work as a buffer. Sam is also really good at small talk – that, along with talk about the business allows Dean to exercise minimal involvement in most of the conversation. Another person at the table also seems to stop Cas and Jimmy from any further attempts at whatever jacked up dominance display they were playing out earlier. 

When they’re done eating and they’re all about to get up to leave, Sam seems to remember something. “Hey, Dean, did you get a chance to mention the party on Saturday?” Actually, Dean had forgotten all about the party, his mind was pretty focused on other things this afternoon. 

“What party?” Jimmy asks. 

“Dean and I are throwing a Halloween party this Saturday. He was supposed to ask if you wanted to come.” Jimmy looks happy about this news but Dean looks over to see Cas looking a bit uncomfortable. He looks like he’s trying not to invade on a private moment and Dean assumes it’s because he doesn’t think that he’ll be included in the invitation. Dean wants to nip that thought right in the bud though so he finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be great! We hope you can both make it.” Cas catches his eye and Dean gives him a warm smile, hopefully conveying that the invitation is sincere. “And it’s a costume party so I’m expecting great things from you two.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Cas says, and Dean feels a warm flutter in his chest at the words. 

“Am I driving everyone back?” Jimmy asks, walking over to stand between Dean and Cas. 

“Everyone but our dear Cassie here,” says Gabriel, popping up out of nowhere and hooking an arm around Cas’s shoulders. “He and I have a little catching up to do.” Dean sends Cas a questioning look, but Cas just gives a slight shake of his head, looking resigned. “Alrighty then. Take care. Buh bye now.” Gabriel herds them all toward the door where the valet is waiting with Jimmy’s car. 

Dean looks back toward the door to the restaurant, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t see inside.

“Dean, are you coming?” Dean drags his gaze away from the tinted windows of the building and turns toward the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. He gets into the passenger seat and lets the valet close the door behind him, and then they’re off. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, I see that you’ve decided to do the exact opposite of what you had planned and instead join in the time-honored Novak tradition of sticking it to your brother!” Gabriel puts a hand up to his mouth and stage whispers, “…and not in the fun way either.” 

“Gabriel, please.” Castiel tries to think of a way to justify his actions to Gabriel in a way that will wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face. It really is very annoying. “I’m not ‘sticking it’ to anyone.” He makes his way over to the bar and orders a shot of whiskey – this conversation definitely requires more alcohol, and he doesn’t have to worry about driving right now. 

“Oh? Not even Dean?” Gabriel follows him but doesn’t sit down. “I imagine that _would_ be in the fun way.” 

Castiel takes the shot and taps the glass to indicate that he wants another. “You don’t understand, Gabe. I tried, ok? I tried to take the high road, to be the better man. I really did.” The bartender refills his glass but instead of drinking he just stares at it, his mind going over everything that has transpired over the last month. “It was supposed to be me. Did I tell you that?” 

“What was supposed to be you?” Castiel downs the second shot and the bartender starts to walk over to refill his glass again but Gabriel waves him off. 

“It was supposed to be me that met Dean first. The day that Dean met Jimmy… I was supposed to be the one to go and interview him. But Jimmy didn’t want to take a meeting with one of our more difficult clients, so he talked me into switching places. I took the meeting and he went to interview Dean.”

“Ok. But Cas, who’s to say it would have turned out any different if it _had_ been you to meet Dean first? It’s not like it would have taken them long to come across each other. Dean could have ended up with Jimmy anyway.” 

Castiel shakes his head emphatically at Gabriel’s protestations. “No. It wouldn’t have happened that way. If it had been me that met Dean first then he would be with me right now.” Castiel tries to tamp down the tiny little voice inside that wonders if maybe he’s wrong. That maybe Dean would be with Jimmy regardless of the events of that day. He’s so sure of his feelings though, and he knows that Dean feels something too, so he pushes aside any doubts and tries to sound as confident as he feels. “I just know it.” 

“If you say so, Cas. But what do you plan on doing about it now? Are you really going to steal Jimmy’s boyfriend away? That just doesn’t seem like you.” Castiel straightens up in his seat and turns to look at Gabriel. 

“I’m simply going to convince Dean that there’s been an unfortunate mistake, and that he has options.”

“Options?”

“Well, one option. The option to leave Jimmy so that he can be with me instead.” 

Gabriel laughs and shakes his head. “I hope you have a better plan than just laying it all out on the table like that. Not everyone shares your affinity for bluntness, Cas.” 

“Of course I do.” Castiel pulls his wallet out to pay for the drinks. “I’ve got my methods.” He pays the bartender and then pulls out an extra twenty when he sees Damon walking toward them with a carryout bag in his hand. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, baby bro. I’d hate to see this all end in tears.” 

“I appreciate your concern, but I believe I have it all under control.” He stands up and clasps Gabriel on the shoulder. 

“I hope you’re right. And hey, don’t be a stranger.” 

“I’ll see you Sunday,” Castiel says, and Gabriel takes his leave, walking back into the busy dining room. 

“One slice of cherry pie to go.” Damon places the bag on the bar and Castiel hands over the twenty, waving away any attempts to give him change. “You know, you’ve got your work cut out for you.” 

“Pardon?” Castiel halts mid-turn, bag in hand and ready to go. 

“With your brother and the green-eyed hunk… It’s not going to be easy.”

“Oh, well I-“

“Just take it from someone who knows. It’s going to be hard, but it’s worth it. If you really love each other, it’ll all work out in the end.” Castiel looks and sees the sincerity in those light blue eyes, which up until now have only held a snarky humor. “And your brother will forgive you eventually. It’s what brothers do.” 

He gives Castiel one more small smile and then turns to go. Hope and confidence firmly in place, Castiel tightens his hold on his bag and walks out the door.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say "More pie!"? No? Well, you're getting it anyway. 
> 
> Oh, and a little surprise at the end... hope you like it!

“ _I invited Gabriel to the party, by the way._ ”

“What?! Why, Sam, why? Why would you go and do something like that?!” Dean is already nervous about Saturday, what with Jimmy and Cas both planning on being there. Throwing Gabriel into the mix will be like adding a particularly obnoxious fuel to an already apprehensive fire. He can’t imagine it will end well at all. 

“ _He’s my friend, Dean. Besides, he’s _your boyfriend’s_ brother. _You_ should have invited him. You invited Castiel._ ” 

“Yeah, well that’s different.” Dean looks up from his desk when he hears the bell above the reception area’s door chime. Charlie is out at the reception desk so he doesn’t have to go out quite yet. 

“ _How do you figure?_ ” Dean listens to a man’s soft rumble and Charlie’s higher voice speaking animatedly in response while he tries to think of an adequate response to Sam’s question. 

“I don’t know, man, it just is!” There… perfectly adequate response. 

He hears Sam sigh exasperatingly over the phone at the same time that Charlie peeks her bright head through the office door. “Someone here to see you, boss!” Dean holds up one finger to indicate he’ll only be a moment so she gives him a thumbs up before retreating. 

“I’ve gotta go, Sam. I’ve got a customer.” 

“ _Alright, Dean. Hey, do you want to get lunch tomorrow?_ ” 

“Uh, yeah, sure. Let’s stick to the cafeteria though. I’m not sure I’m ready for a repeat of yesterday quite yet.” He stands up and walks around his desk, getting ready to leave his office. 

“ _You know, I’m still waiting on an explanation about that. You never told me why you suddenly had to have me there with you. It seemed like a perfectly normal lunch to me._ ” If that was normal then Dean thinks he might have to start skipping lunch altogether. He doesn’t think he can handle that kind of stress on a daily basis. 

“Sure, Sam. We’ll talk later, ok?” Much, much later if Dean has anything to say about it. 

“ _Ok. See you tomorrow._ ”

“Yep, tomorrow. Bye, Sam.” Dean ends the call and slips his phone into his pocket. Then, plastering on a big smile he walks out to join Charlie at the reception desk. His smile falters a bit though when he sees who it is that’s waiting for him. Or rather, he thinks he knows who it is – Damn the twins sure look alike. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Cas’s small smile looks somewhat apologetic and Dean wishes that he had given the man a warmer welcome. “Not, that I’m not happy to see you…”

“No, it’s ok, Dean. I probably should have called first…” Dean risks a glance at Charlie, hoping that Cas isn’t going to say something incriminating in front of his friend, but she just gives Dean a stern look, a look that says that Dean is being incredibly rude right now. 

“Hey, no, it’s totally fine. You’re welcome anytime. So, what’s up?” Dean smiles and walks around the desk to stand next to Cas, leaning an arm against the desktop when he gets about a foot away. 

Cas’s smile looks much happier now – it reaches his eyes as he takes a couple of steps forward, closing the distance between them by half. “I was actually wondering if you had time for an oil change?” 

“Oh?” He’s not sure what he’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it. It’s a totally normal request and it helps in getting Dean to drop his guard. “Yeah, sure, I could do that.” He starts to walk back around the desk to check their computer inventory to see if he’s got the right kind of filters and such but Cas stops him with a hand to his bicep. Dean’s eyes slip closed for a brief moment as the touch causes a shiver to run over his body.

“But first… Charlie?” Cas prompts. Dean turns his attention to his friend who jumps up from her seat and bounces over and through the door to the breakroom, returning momentarily with a couple of pizza boxes from their favorite local place that they always order from on Wednesdays.

“He brought us lunch!” She exclaims, brandishing the boxes under Dean’s nose so that the familiar mouthwatering aroma can lure him in. She quickly retreats again, bringing the boxes back into the breakroom with her. 

“You remembered?” Dean asks, though the answer is obvious. Dean recalls their conversation the previous Wednesday when he and Cas had talked during lunch. Honestly, Dean had probably been a little too enthusiastic while he ate and he blushes at the memory, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck while he averts his gaze to the floor. 

Cas places one finger under Dean’s chin and raises his face to meet his blue gaze head on. “How could I forget?” Dean rapidly finds himself getting lost in their navy depths, the hue darkening as Cas inches closer, his one finger on Dean’s chin becoming a whole hand gently cupping his face. 

“Soup’s on, boys! Get it while the getting’s- Oops! Um… carry on. I’ll just be…” Dean jumps back at Charlie’s unceremonious entrance, but the woman leaves almost as quickly as she had entered, gesturing behind her as she shuffles away. 

“Yeah, why don’t we…” Dean makes a similar gesture, walking toward the breakroom and trying pretty unsuccessfully to calm the frantic beating of his heart. 

“Of course,” Cas replies, following Dean at a respectable distance and only giving the barest hint of a smirk when Dean glances back over his shoulder. _Deep breaths,_ Dean thinks to himself, _it’s only lunch._ Then suddenly recalling his conversation with Sam, Dean thinks that he may have to start skipping lunch after all – his poor nerves just can’t take it. 

 

Two hours later the pizza is long gone but the conversation is still plentiful. Charlie sits on one side of the table, taking up two chairs as she sprawls sideways and leans up against the wall. Dean is sitting in the chair next to the wall on the other side while Cas sits beside him, reclining back and to the side, his arm slung around the back of Dean’s chair. His thumb is a distracting presence, the lightest touch of it sliding smoothly back and forth over Dean’s shoulder. 

“So you went to a Halloween party dressed as Han Solo and some random guy just happened to be dressed like slave Leia? What are the odds of that?!” Charlie laughs incredulously at Cas’s story and Dean can’t help but smile as well, the photo in Cas’s bedroom fresh in his mind. 

“I don’t know the odds of that happening, but I’m sure glad they did. Alfie looked amazing in that gold bikini.” He sighs wistfully and a sudden spurt of jealously licks through Dean’s veins. He tries to stifle it though and return the small smile that Cas throws his way. The smile feels more genuine when Cas includes a conspiratory wink and Dean finds himself leaning closer into Cas’s side. “We ended up winning the costume competition together. It was a lot of fun.” 

“Oh, man,” Charlie giggles. “I like you, Novak. You should come to every Pizza Wednesday!” 

“Thank you, Charlie. I like you too. And I’d be happy to attend Pizza Wednesday…” He turns to look at Dean. “… just say the word.” 

The phone ringing at the reception desk jerks Dean out of the small staring contest that he and Cas are having. “Oookay, then. That’ll be my cue.” Charlie jumps up and goes to answer the phone, leaving the two men alone at the table. 

“I should probably be going. I’ve been gone from the office for over two hours. They’ll probably think I’m lying dead in a ditch somewhere,” Cas says, pulling out his cell phone and looking at the screen. “Yep, six missed calls and eleven missed texts. I think that’s a record.” 

Dean suddenly remembers Cas’s original reason for coming so he exclaims, “Oil change!” Cas looks at him with a confused, squinty-eyed expression. “Your car… you wanted an oil change, right?” Cas’s expression clears, but instead of looking disappointed or alarmed, he just looks amused. 

“It’s fine, Dean. I’ll just stop by some other time. It’s not something that needs to be done urgently.” He steps in close, leaving a bare inch between their two bodies and Dean’s positive that Cas is going to kiss him. He knows that he should move, or say something at least, but he doesn’t. He just keeps shifting his gaze between Cas’s hungry blue eyes and his plush pink mouth. 

At the last moment though, Cas reaches his hand around Dean’s waist and then pulls back holding a small takeaway bag that he hadn’t noticed before. “I brought this for you.” He holds out the bag and Dean takes a moment to collect himself before grabbing the bag from him and looking inside. There’s a small closed container so Dean places the bag on the table and reaches in to take it out of the bag. “It really was very good. I was hoping to get to share it with you.”

He opens the container and the rich, sweet scent of the cherry pie hits Dean’s nose, causing him to close his eyes and take a deeper sniff. Before he can open them again, the container is gently taken from his hands and he looks to see Cas holding the container in one hand and a plastic fork in the other. He uses the fork to scoop up a bite and then steps in closer once more, lifting the decadent treat up to Dean’s mouth. 

“Open up,” he commands. Dean does as he’s told and opens his mouth, letting his tongue slip out to wet his bottom lip before Cas places the morsel in his mouth. “Good boy.” 

Dean whimpers slightly at the praise, but soon he’s lost in the sweet, tangy flavor of the tart, syrupy cherries, his eyes closed as he loses himself in the sensation. He chews slowly and then swallows, and when he opens his eyes again he’s surprised to realize that he has closed the gap between their two bodies and his hands are loosely fisted into the lapels of Cas’s trench coat.

“Do you want more?” Cas inquires. Dean’s not sure if he means the pie or something else altogether, but either way, the answer is ‘yes.’ He wants more. He wants anything and everything that Cas is willing to give, so help him. 

Instead of answering though, because he honestly doesn’t know if he’s capable of speech at this point, Dean leans forward and presses their lips together, initiating a kiss that he’s wanted to experience again ever since they stopped kissing yesterday afternoon. And it’s just as good as he remembers, possibly better even, because now the feel of Cas’s demanding mouth is accompanied by the scrumptious flavor of cherry pie, and Dean kinda hopes that it never ends. 

So of course, that’s when it stops. Cas pulls back and Dean opens his eyes to see Cas’s own dark blue ones, the pupils dilated with his obvious arousal. “As much as I’d like to continue this… I really must be going.” He places the pie and the fork down on the table and then gently pries Dean’s fingers from his lapels. 

“Right… of course. I’d better be getting back to work, too.” He glances around the room like a broken car will just materialize out of nowhere, complete with tools and his trusty radio. Alas, that doesn’t happen so he’s left to flounder, folding his arms across his chest and then uncrossing them, raising one hand to rub the back of his neck and then shoving both hands in his pockets. 

Cas smirks at him and then turns to head out of the breakroom, Dean following like a lost puppy. When they get to the front, Charlie is just hanging up on her call, finishing typing a note into the computer. “Oh, you’re leaving?” she asks, a disappointed whine to her voice. 

“Yes, unfortunately I must get back to work. It was a pleasure having lunch with you, Charlie. I hope we can do it again.” He walks around to the front of the desk but Dean stays back by Charlie this time. He doesn’t trust himself not to maul the man so he figures he’d better keep his distance. 

“Of course! Oh, but hey… you’re going to the party on Saturday, right?!” Her excitement is palpable, her tiny frame bouncing up and down in her seat. 

“Absolutely. I assume you’ll be there as well?”

“You’d better believe it! I can’t wait! My girlfriend Dorothy is going dressed as her namesake and I’m going dressed as Ozma. It’s going to be so much fun!” Cas gives her an indulgent smile which Dean mirrors. Dean could easily see Cas and Charlie becoming fast friends and that warms his heart more than he thinks it should. 

“That sounds wonderful! I look forward to seeing it.” Then he turns to Dean and asks, “And you, Dean? What will you be dressed as?” 

Dean blushes in embarrassment and averts his gaze as he mumbles, “Demon.” It had been Jimmy’s idea. He wanted to go as an angel so he asked Dean to go as a demon. It seemed like a good idea at the time but now Dean’s not so sure. 

“A demon, huh? Well, I’m _really_ looking forward to seeing _that_ ,” he says with a speculative look on his face. Charlie squeaks and Dean swallows nervously, a fair amount of blood rushing south at Cas’s low tone and calculating expression. The tension in the air is broken suddenly though when Cas collects himself and walks over to place his hand on the door. “Well, see you soon, then.” Dean and Charlie wave their goodbyes and then Cas is out the door, a cool gust of air all that’s left behind. 

“What the hell, Dean?” Dean shakes himself and turns his attention on Charlie who’s giving him an outraged look. 

“What?” he asks, confused at her demeanor. 

“Why didn’t you kiss him goodbye?” Dean feels the blood drain from his face – oh shit, did she see him swallowing Cas’s face in the breakroom? “If he were my boyfriend – you know, if I were into that sorta thing – I’d be all over him every chance I got! He’s dreamy…” She shrugs her shoulders and leans her head against one of them while she says the last, her eyelids fluttering like a schoolgirl. 

“Shit,” Dean says, realizing the problem here… well, one of the problems. 

“Shit? What shit?” she asks. 

“Um… Charlie? That wasn’t Jimmy… that was Cas.” She squeaks again, this time in shock, covering her mouth with both hands and widening her eyes briefly. 

“Duuuude…” she says, shaking her head and giving Dean one of the most pitying looks he’s ever seen – definitely the most pitying look he’s ever seen on her. “You are screwed.” 

Dean sighs heavily, dropping down into the chair next to her and slumping over onto the desk. “I know,” he says, the words muffled as he speaks into his folded arms. Charlie slides over and rubs his back soothingly while he moans and fake cries, lamenting his situation. 

“Hey, look on the bright side, Leia… Maybe you’ll find out that you and Luke are related and then you and Han can live happily ever after?” It’s just like Charlie to try to comfort him with a Star Wars analogy. 

He picks up his head to look at his friend. “Charlie, if Jimmy and I were related, then Cas and I would be related too,” he reminds her. 

“Oh. Right.” She says no more, just goes back to rubbing his back and Dean drops his head once more. What the hell is he getting himself into? 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Dean arrives at the Novak garage the next morning, he finds a beautifully gift-wrapped box waiting for him on his work bench. He instinctively looks around to see if anyone is there but he doesn’t see anyone, and there’s a tag on the box that says, “To: Dean,” so it’s definitely for him. 

He quickly unwraps the gift and opens the box. There’s a piece of cardstock sitting on top of folded tissue paper so he takes that first and reads it. 

_Dear Dean,_  
_Gold isn’t the only color that I enjoy._  
_For your costume…_  
_C.N._

He places the ominously worded note down beside the box and tries to will away the butterflies flapping away at his insides before he lifts the sides of the tissue paper, revealing a pair of red satin panties, complete with black lace accents. He swallows audibly and snatches up the delicate thing with slightly shaking hands, the silky feel of the satin running through his calloused fingers. He folds them up gently and places them into one of his jacket pockets along with the note. 

Then he takes the box and the wrapping paper and hides them in the confines of his jacket while he heads out to the courtyard, stopping to look around to see if anyone is watching. He doesn’t notice anyone with their eyes on him though so he quickly takes the box and wrappings and stuffs it into a trash can before quickly walking back to the garage. 

When he gets back inside he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. He slips his hand into his pocket to worry the soft satin between his thumb and forefinger, but that only serves to make his heart skip faster, the thought of that smooth materiel sliding against his heated skin is too much for him to handle right now.

Once again, just like yesterday, he finds himself wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter earns just about all the tags. It's a doozy and I hope you all like it. 
> 
> Sorry about the wait between updates. I hope the extra-long chapter makes up for that. 
> 
> Also, I may not have ever said it before but feedback is always welcome, and all the lovely comments and kudos keep me writing and bring a smile to my perpetual bitchface (yes, Sam, I could give you a run for your money in that department!) Thank you all for bringing happiness to my day, and I hope that I do the same for you. (❛ั◡˜)♥

“ _Come on, baby… you’d said that you’d be here by now. I thought you were going to help me with all this party prep? I took the whole day off and I still don’t think It’ll all be done by tomorrow night._ ” 

“I know, Dean, and I was supposed to have left like two hours ago, but Cas is being a major pain in my ass and is insisting that I go through and respond to _all_ the information and pricing request emails before I leave today. I swear, the guy’s got a bureaucratic hard-on the size of the Chrysler Building and right now it’s in the process of fucking me.” 

Jimmy hears Dean’s responding laugh muffled through the speaker phone on his desk. It pisses him off because his boyfriend is basically laughing at his pain, but he can’t help feeling a pleasant warmth at the sound – god, that man has the sexiest voice. 

“ _I didn’t think Cas was such a hard-ass. Couldn’t it wait until Monday?_ ”

“That’s what I said!” Jimmy exclaims.

“ _And what was his response?_ ” Dean asks. 

“Well, um… he said that I’ve been putting it off too long already so I had to get it done today.” Jimmy loosens his tie and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt before slumping back into his comfortable desk chair. 

“ _Ah, I see. The plot thickens… Exactly how long have you been putting this off, Jimmy?_ ” 

Dean’s teasing is not helping Jimmy’s foul mood but he’s tired and frustrated so the truth kind of just slips out. “Since Cas left for his trip…” 

“ _Jesus, Jimmy! That was like a month ago! It’s no wonder Cas is pissed. If you were my brother-_ ”

“Ugh! Please don’t. I can’t have someone who’s dick I sucked last night talk about being my brother. It’s fucking creepy. And don’t bother with the stern and disappointed thing either – I got plenty of that from Cas already.” He leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up onto his desk while he grabs the fat little bumble bee-shaped stress ball that Cas had given him. He then starts squeezing the crap out of that little bastard, imagining that it’s Cas’s head, while he listens to Dean’s response. 

“ _Alright, baby. I’ve got nothing further to say on the subject of emails. Should I take this to mean that you won’t be coming at all tonight? It’s just that I need to know for dinner. I was planning on introducing you to Bobby tonight._ ” 

“Aww, Dean, is this going to be a ‘meet the parents’ party prep? Can’t say that I’ve ever attended one of those before.” Jimmy smirks as he tries to make light of the situation. It’s not that he doesn’t want to meet Dean’s surrogate father, it’s just that Cas has been busting his balls all day so he’s tired and he kinda just wants to go home and sleep. 

“ _Very funny, asshole. You know Bobby’s been giving me a hard time about getting the three of us to have dinner together. I just figured, two birds, one stone, right? But I suppose it can wait until next week…_ ”

“No, it’s fine. I’m leaving here at five whether I’m done or not. Cas can kiss my ass.” He continues to squeeze the stress ball, its comically large eyes staring at him while he does. 

“ _Hey now, that’s my job,_ ” Dean says, affecting indignation.

“Is it now? Well, how about you clock in some time on that job later tonight? I know how much of a hard worker you are.” Jimmy feels a pleasant tingle in his groin at the thought and he closes his eyes and squirms in his seat while he imagines it. 

“ _You bet your sweet ass I will. I think I’d be willing to put in some overtime on a project like that._ ” Jimmy moans at Dean’s words spoken in his sultry sex voice. 

“Damn it, Dean. You’re making me hard and I’ve still got a shit ton of emails to go through. Hold that thought and we can pick it back up later… ok?” 

“ _Your loss, baby. It just so happens that I give excellent phone sex._ ” He sounds resigned, but in a joking way, so Jimmy isn’t really worried about hurting his feelings or anything like that. 

“Well, be that as it may, if you want to see me at all tonight I’ve got to get this shit done. So go back to playing Martha Stewart and I’ll see you in a few hours, alright?” 

Dean sighs loudly but agrees. “ _Fine. Dinner’s at six. Don’t be late!_ ” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” They both hang up and Jimmy slumps his head back and stares up at the ceiling. He wishes he could just close his eyes and take a nap, but the sooner he deals with this email nonsense, the sooner he can leave. So he takes his feet off the desk and gets to it. 

 

When 4:30 rolls around, his eyes are starting to burn and his fingers are starting to cramp, so the soft knocking on his office door is a welcome diversion. “Come in!” he shouts, and he’s happy to see that it’s his assistant, Inias, brandishing a steaming cup of coffee like the proverbial manna from Heaven. “You are a vision, Inias. Do you know that?” 

Inias smirks and then ducks his head as he walks over next to Jimmy’s chair and sets down the cup of coffee. Jimmy takes it in both hands, bringing it up to inhale the rich aroma and the comforting steam as he closes his eyes. He takes a small sip and then just continues to hold the warm mug up to his face, bracing his elbows on his desk. 

Jimmy’s eyes are still closed when he feels a set of strong hands descend on his tense shoulders. The hands are warm – the heat seeping through the thin fabric of his light blue button down. He moans lowly, some of the tension draining out of him as those skillful hands kneed his tight muscles. “ _Mmm…_ what did I ever do to deserve you, Inias? Those hands of yours are magical.” 

Jimmy feels a slight puff of air on his neck as Inias leans down to speak softly in his ear. “They’re at your disposal, Mr. Novak… wherever you may require them.” 

“Is that so?” he responds, speaking before he has a chance to really think about what he’s saying. “Well, as it happens, I could use-“ He’s cut off before he has the chance to complete his ill-thought out response though, when the office door opens up and Cas stalks through. 

“Can I help you?” Jimmy asks dryly. 

Cas gives Inias a pointed look as he straightens up and removes his hands from Jimmy’s shoulders. “Will that be all, Mr. Novak?” Inias directs the question at Jimmy but it’s Cas who answers. 

“Yes, that will be all, Inias. You can go home for the day.” Jimmy gives an indignant squawk at Cas’s dismissal of his assistant, but Inias just plasters on a fake smile and hurries out of the office. Cas closes the door behind him with a definitive click and walks up to Jimmy’s desk, towering over him with a stern look on his face. 

“Is there a problem, _brother_?” Jimmy asks, picking up the stress ball again and squeezing it violently. 

“Did you get through all of those emails?” Jimmy wants to lie and say ‘yes’ but an urge to be defiant compels him to tell the truth. 

“No, I didn’t. What are you going to do, Cas? Slap me on the wrist? Chain me to my computer until I complete my task?” He’s expecting a reprimand, or a deepened scowl at the very least, so what Cas actually says throws him at first. 

“No. The rest can wait until Monday.” 

“Really?! Well, great!” He leaps up from his desk and hastens to put on his suit coat so he can leave the office. “Thanks, Cas. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Not so fast, Jimmy…” Cas stops him with a hand on his chest and Jimmy gives him a confused look. “The emails can wait but there’s something else that I need you to do.” Jimmy slumps his shoulders and waits for the other shoe to drop. “Our new French contact is in town to familiarize himself with the company and I want you to meet with him – welcome him to town, get to know him a bit. His name is Balthazar and he’s expecting you at Gabe’s restaurant at five.”

“What?! Ooh, no. No, no, no, no. I have plans, Cas! Why can’t you do it?” 

“Well, for one, I already know him; it’s you he needs to meet. And secondly, this is your job, Jimmy. I’ve got too much on my plate already so he’s going to be your responsibility while he’s in town. It’s time you start pulling your weight around here.” 

“But I promised Dean that I would help him set up for his party tonight. He’s expecting me at five. Can’t you just go instead?” Jimmy pulls out the puppy eyes and Cas seems to consider for a moment before he speaks. _Yes!_ Jimmy thinks, _It works every time!_

“You know what, Jimmy, because you asked so nicely… I _will_ go instead.” Jimmy sighs in relief but the relief is short-lived. “Do you want to let Dean know I’ll be coming or should I?” 

“What?! That’s not at all what I meant and you know it, Cas.” Jimmy’s silently fuming now, unsure what else to say to make this go his way. 

“Don’t worry, Jimmy.” Cas slaps him on the shoulder before he turns and opens the door, ready to leave. “I’ll help Dean until you can get there.” 

Jimmy figures that the best he can do is hurry this along. The quicker he gets it over with, the quicker he can get to Dean’s. “Fine. One drink with this Balthazar guy and then I’m out.” 

“Hey, take your time. Dean will be in good hands until you get there.” Cas gives him a smile so devious that he’s pretty sure he’s only ever seen it on his own face before, and then he’s gone. 

“Yeah… that’s what I’m afraid of.” Jimmy says, softly to the empty office. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“’Sorry, Dean, but I’m ditching you tonight to go to a haunted house with my girlfriend.’” Castiel hears Dean speaking before he sees him. “’It’s one-night only, Dean!’” Castiel slowly approaches the tree where Dean’s upper body is concealed, his lower half balancing precariously on a rung of a very rickety-looking ladder. He’s struggling with a string of orange twinkle lights, wrapping them around a branch and shaking the whole thing like an earthquake is hitting it. “Oh, yeah? Well, maybe _I’d_ like to go to a one-night only haunted house. Did you ever think of that, _Sam_?”

“Need a hand?” Dean yelps in surprise and slips on the ladder but Castiel is quick to catch him, his hands steadying Dean’s hips as he rights his footing a few rungs down. The movement puts Dean’s ass level with Castiel’s face and he smirks up at Dean when those startled green eyes meet his. “Or two…?” 

“What are you doing here?” Castiel removes his hands and takes a step back once he’s sure that Dean isn’t in imminent danger of falling. 

“Well, ‘Hello’ to you too, Dean. Lovely evening we’re having, isn’t it?” Dean scrubs a hand down his face and lets out a tired sigh. 

“I’m really going to have to work on my greetings around you, aren’t I?” He climbs down the ladder onto the grass, turning to face Castiel. “To be fair though, this time you popped up out of nowhere. I think we may need to get you a collar with a little bell on it.”

Taking a step closer, Castiel lifts his hand and watches his finger trace the rounded neckline of Dean’s solid black t-shirt. “I don’t know, Dean… if one of us is going to be wearing a collar…” 

He can imagine it, too – Dean on his knees, a green collar to match his eyes gracing his beautiful neck, hands behind his back while he waits for Castiel to give him further instruction. Or maybe a deep red? Yes, that would go perfectly with the pair of panties that he gifted Dean yesterday…

“Hey, now…” Castiel is snapped out of his fantasy when Dean grabs his wrist and pulls it down and away. “Just cool your heels there, _sir_ …” He says it sarcastically but Dean has no idea what that one word does to Castiel. He has to bite his lip ruthlessly to stifle the moan that comes unbidden to his lips when he hears it, but even that doesn’t do much to stop the rush of lightheadedness that he feels as well. “You do know that Jimmy is going to be here any minute, don’t you?” 

“Hm?” he responds, a bit out of it. Dean walks over to the stoop and picks up another strand of lights before heading back over to the tree. It gives Castiel the time and distance to pull himself together and register what Dean had just said. “Actually, no, he won’t. Didn’t he call you? Or text you at least?” 

Dean pats at his jeans pockets, first the right, then the left, before saying, “Shit, I don’t know. I must have left my phone inside. He’s ok, right? Why isn’t he coming?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before beginning his ascent up the ladder again. 

“Last minute meeting he had to attend. So he sent me here in his place.” Dean gives him an unbelieving look before shoving himself face-first back into the tree branches to continue wrapping the lights around its slender limbs.

“Likely story,” Dean says, his skepticism ringing loud and clear. “Why do I get the feeling that you have him locked up in a closet somewhere? Or is this just another one of your ‘meetings’ where the sole purpose is to make Jimmy look like an ass while keeping him out of the way?” Dean peeks his head out of the colorful foliage long enough to raise a brow at Castiel in a look of stern admonishment. Castiel feels a bit sheepish at being so transparent but he’s not going to apologize. 

“No, no. He really is in a meeting. Call him yourself if you don’t believe me.” Dean just sighs and goes back to stringing the lights. 

“Whatever. Hey, why don’t you make yourself useful and go grab the end of that extension cord – the one that’s plugged into the wall over there.” Dean gestures to the cord in question and Castiel walks over to pick up the end, then carries it back over and places it into Dean’s outstretched hand. He wraps it around the branch once and then plugs in the waiting strand. As soon as he does, the whole tree lights up with a warm orange glow and Castiel looks up to see Dean looking back at him, the lights reflecting off his skin like the blaze of a roaring fire. “How does it look?” 

“Breathtaking,” Castiel responds, though his gaze never leaves Dean’s face. They stand staring at each other in silence for several moments before Dean seems to remember himself, clearing his throat and turning back around so that he can descend the ladder. When he reaches the ground he takes a step back to admire his efforts. 

“It’ll do,” he says, looking up at the incandescent display. “So you’re here to help?” Castiel nods and smiles. “Alright then, we’re all done out here. Grab that extra extension cord and follow me.” He picks up the ladder and balances it on his shoulder. Castiel follows him down the narrow alley between his house and the neighbor’s, stopping only long enough to quickly step ahead and open the gate to the backyard. 

Castiel notices that the backyard is decorated as well – strands of orange and purple lights strung up in the trees and a fire pit in the middle of the yard with logs large enough to sit on arranged around it. 

He takes a moment to enjoy the sight. The sun is dipping low in the clear sky so that the warm orange light is adding an additional layer of glow to the already vibrant autumnal foliage and the bright pinpricks of hazy light given off by the strung lights. It definitely cozy, and Castiel can imagine how much cozier it would be with the logs in the fire pit lit. It would be the perfect counterpoint to the chill breeze that’s currently blowing fallen leaves around the inviting space. 

“We’re done out here, let’s head inside.” Dean clasps Castiel on the shoulder as he walks by but instead of following, Castiel grabs hold of Dean’s hand and pulls him back to his side, keeping their hands clasped together while he motions to the fire pit. 

“Are you sure it can’t wait? Wouldn’t you rather light that thing up and spend the evening with marshmallows and blankets?” Dean looks wary but he’s still holding fast to Castiel’s hand so he reaches out with the other and pulls Dean closer with a grip on his hip. “It’s a clear night, we might even be able to see some stars.”

Dean licks his lips and seems to consider it for a moment, but eventually he shakes his head and pulls Castiel along to the side door of the house. “Tempting as that sounds, I’ve got shit to get done tonight and I already promised Bobby dinner. He was expecting to get to meet Jimmy tonight but I guess that’s not going to happen.” 

Castiel follows Dean up several flights of stairs until they reach the top floor. They enter into the kitchen and Dean goes to the counter and lifts the lid of a large crock pot, then stirs the contents. Castiel looks over his shoulder and sees that it’s a massive amount of chili and he takes a deep whiff. “It smells wonderful, Dean.” 

“Thanks. It’s mostly for tomorrow but I like to make it a day in advance anyway so I figured we’d have some for dinner tonight. Make things easier. I’m just gonna get some cornbread going to have with it.” He begins pulling out ingredients and placing them on the counter next to a mixing bowl, a whisk, and measuring tools. 

“Anything I can do to help?” Castiel asks. Dean is efficient as he moves around the small space, and Castiel takes the opportunity to look at his surroundings. Dean’s home is on the small size but it’s clean and tidy, and the comforting scents of cooking make it feel very welcoming. 

“There’s a block of cheddar in the fridge. If you could shred that and chop up one of these onions, that would be great.” He gives Castiel a box grater and a chef’s knife and motions to a clean cutting board set up with a couple of bowls. 

They work in companionable silence, each sneaking glances at the other while they go about their appointed tasks. 

As soon as Castiel is done with the chopping and the grating, Dean is just placing the cornbread mixture into the pre-heated oven. They take turns washing their hands, side-by-side at the sink and then there’s the sound of booted footsteps coming up the stairs. 

Dean goes to open the door and is met with a scruffy-bearded, tattered baseball cap-wearing fellow. “Hey, Bobby. How’s the shop?” He then turns and heads to the fridge, coming back with three bottles of beer and handing one to Bobby and one to Castiel, keeping the third for himself. 

“Same old, same old.” He nods at Castiel and then looks expectantly at Dean. “So, are you gonna introduce us, or what? I know I raised you with better manners than that, boy.” 

“Of course, Bobby. Uh… this is-“

“Castiel, sir. Dean’s told me a lot about you.” Castiel steps forward and shakes Bobby’s hand, giving him what he hopes is a reassuring smile. 

“Oh? I wish I could say the same, son. Castiel, huh? I thought your name was Jimmy?” Bobby gives Dean a questioning look but Dean just looks lost so Castiel decides to explain.

“Actually, Jimmy’s my twin brother. He had a last minute change of plans so he sent me to help out in his stead. He may be here a bit later though. I hope that’s all right?” Dean appears to remember something because he quickly turns and walks the few feet to the table, picking up his cell phone once he gets there. He’s tapping at the screen when Bobby answers.

“It’s fine with me so long as it’s fine with Dean.” He walks over to the table as well and seats himself in one of the chairs. He gets comfortable, taking his hat off and taking a long pull from his beer. 

“Yeah, of course.” Dean says, still distracted by whatever it is that he’s looking at on his phone. “Uh, first Jimmy said he’d only be a little late, but he just texted a few minutes ago to say that he’ll be a couple of hours at least.” 

“Balthazar probably talked him into having dinner with him. He can be pretty persuasive.” Dean’s head shoots up at that, his eyes narrowing as his gaze lands on Castiel’s face. 

“Balthazar, huh? Is this the same Balthazar that you ‘had dinner’ with in France?” He doesn’t actually use the finger quotes but his meaning is clear nonetheless. 

“One and the same. He may be spending quite a bit of time working here in the future so he wants to familiarize himself with the area, get to know more of the executive members of the company a little better.” Dean has drifted closer to Castiel while listening to his explanation, eventually ending up directly in front of him, almost boxing him in against the counter. 

“And he wanted to spend the evening with Jimmy, not you?” Dean asks. He’s concentrating very closely on Castiel’s expression, so much so that it seems like he’s trying to read his mind. 

“Well, actually, he had wanted it to be me but I figured that we know each other as well as I would like us to, which is to say not very well at all, so I thought that maybe he could get to know Jimmy instead.” His answer is a bit convoluted but it’s the best he can do to explain the long and the short of things without just coming out and saying it, especially with Bobby in the room. 

The explanation actually seems to make Dean relax a bit – the tense line of his shoulders slumps and he takes a deep breath, finally moving his eyes from staring into Castiel’s eyes and down to staring at his mouth. He doesn’t say anything though and they’re both startled by the loud throat clearing that comes from the table. 

Dean takes a step back and then walks over to the oven to check on the cornbread. He says, “It’ll just be a few more minutes. I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Be right back.” Then he scurries away down the hall, leaving Castiel and Bobby to their own devices. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean closes the bathroom door behind him and leans up against it to give himself a moment to calm his beating heart. He slips his phone into his pocket and then goes to the sink and splashes some cool water on his face. 

He had felt such a surge of anger when Cas had mentioned Balthazar, but it hadn’t been the thought of him having dinner with Jimmy that had upset him so much – it had been the knowledge that he had spent time with Cas that had made him feel so enraged. 

And now Cas says that the bastard is here and planning on being here for a while and the thought of him being close to Cas – working with him, talking to him, doing who knows what else with him – makes him want to break something. 

He tells himself that he needs to calm down though. Cas isn’t his, this shouldn't be so upsetting to him. And, from what Cas had just said about the man – the confusing statement about not wanting to know him better or whatever – if he’s to be understood, then Dean doesn’t even have anything to worry about. 

“Fuck,” he says to his reflection. “This shouldn’t matter.” But it does matter and he knows it. 

Just then he hears the oven timer ding so he dries his dripping face and goes back out into the kitchen. Cas is pulling the cornbread out of the oven and placing it on the stovetop when he gets there. He tries to take over but Cas just shoos him away so he goes to get bowls and spoons for the chili instead. 

They all eat heartily and the conversation is comfortable. Bobby and Cas actually find some common ground in their knowledge of and interest in mythology and folklore. Bobby’s always collected dusty old books on lore – he’s got a library full of them downstairs. But surprisingly, Cas seems just as fascinated on the subject. He informs them that he had minored in anthropology in college, and that he still subscribes to several academic journals just to keep up to date on findings. Bobby says that he’d like to see some of those sometime and Cas says he’d be happy to lend him some if Bobby would be willing to show him his library. 

All in all, it’s a very pleasant and comfortable hour and a half spent in good company with good food, and Dean wonders if it would have gone as well if Jimmy had been there instead. 

When they’re done, Bobby excuses himself to return downstairs and Cas starts collecting the dishes and brings them to the sink. He rolls up his sleeves and turns on the water so Dean tries to stop him, feeling a little uncomfortable with having a guest wash his dishes. “Hey, you don’t have to do that.” He tries to take the sponge out of Cas’s hand but Cas just moves it out of Dean’s reach. 

“No, I don’t _have_ to. I want to. You cooked, so I’ll clean.” He squirts some soap on the sponge and proceeds to go about washing the dishes. “You can dry and put them away if you want though. I don’t really know where anything goes.”

So Dean grabs a dishcloth and they stand elbow to elbow at the sink, working sedately to get the job done. 

“So what’s next on the agenda?” Cas asks. A bubble floats up from the sudsy sink and Cas blows it in Dean’s direction, making him smile. 

“Well, actually, I need to get a bit of baking done.” He can feel himself begin to blush so he takes a minute to go about putting away the dishes that he’s already dried. 

“Oh? And pray tell what will we be baking?” Dean risks a glance at Cas and the bastard is already smirking at him. He probably knows exactly what Dean is going to say and just wants to make him squirm. 

“Miniature pies,” Dean mumbles, face partially hidden behind a cabinet door. 

“What was that? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you, Dean.” Dean huffs a breath and turns to face him, still far across the room. 

“I said… miniature pies.” Castiel shuts off the water, having finished with all the dishes, and walks over to where Dean is standing, leaning in close and lifting his hand up to Dean’s face. 

“Yummy,” he says as he drags his wet thumb down Dean’s lips, lingering on the bottom one for a moment. “Sounds like fun.” He lets his hand continue to trail down until it lands on the dishcloth that’s flung over Dean’s shoulder. He grabs it and walks back over to the sink, drying his hands as he goes. 

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away his arousal but he’s pretty sure it’s a useless endeavor so gives it up in favor of readying the table for the pie-making. “I made the crust earlier, so I just have to roll it out and cut it. You can start on the apples while I do that.” 

He puts on an apron to try to avoid getting flour all over his clothes. He tries to offer one to Cas but he declines it. He gives Cas a paring knife and a bag of apples that he had rinsed off earlier and sets him up on the other side of the table with a couple of bowls and a cutting board. 

They work in silence again, like they had earlier, but it isn’t comfortable this time. In fact, the air between them is so charged that Dean thinks if someone were to light a match, the whole kitchen would go up in flames. Either that, or if there weren’t a table between them, they might slam together like magnets and just combust on the spot. 

He finishes cutting up enough of the dough to place in the trays for the first type of pie, ready and waiting to be filled. Cas finishes his task as well, the apples are all peeled and cored, and diced into little cubes small enough for the tiny pastries. 

Dean collects more ingredients and places them all on the counter and then takes the bowl of diced apple from Cas so that he can mix up the filling. 

They still haven’t said anything since they began and the nervous tension is starting to make Dean sweat. He feels like they’re waiting for something – for some unspoken cue so that they can begin doing what it is that they really want to be doing right now. 

Apparently that cue comes without Dean’s knowledge because as soon as he’s done measuring out all of the sugar and flour and spices that he needs into the bowl and picks up the spoon to begin mixing it, Cas comes up behind him and places a soft kiss to the back of his neck. 

Dean’s hand falls limp to the counter and then he tightens his grip on the edge, bringing up the other one to join it. Cas continues his gentle attack, trailing sweet kisses across the back of his neck while his hands come up to land on Dean’s hips, guiding their bodies together so that the’re touching from the middle of their backs down to their knees. 

“Keep going,” Cas whispers in his ear. “Those apples aren’t going to mix themselves.” Dean drops his head to his chest for a moment and takes a deep breath before picking up the spoon again. He starts to mix very slowly while Cas continues with his gentle ministrations, though it’s not long before he feels Cas untie his apron strings and sneak his hands up under Dean’s shirt. 

Those long, soft fingers caress the muscular planes of Dean’s stomach and chest, pausing momentarily to pinch and rub and pull at Dean’s nipples. He moans lowly and pushes back against Cas only to feel the hard length of his cock straining back against his ass. That makes him moan even more, and it also makes him forget to stir, the spoon leaning idle against the side of the bowl. 

A sharp pinch to one nipple reminds him to start stirring again, so he does, which earns him a pleased hum and a gentle squeeze to his own aching dick. 

Then Cas moves away completely and Dean is left feeling cold and uncertain until he returns with a spoon which he uses to scoop up a small amount of the apple mixture which he then feeds to Dean. 

Dean closes his eyes and rolls the sweet, spicy cubes around his mouth before biting into them, the soft crunch adding a burst of tartness that makes his mouth flood with saliva. The taste distracts him enough so that he doesn’t notice at first that Cas is back behind him and that he’s got Dean’s jeans unbuttoned and unzipped; it’s not until he feels the skin of Cas’s hand on his hard cock. 

He tries to turn around and face him but Cas stops him saying, “I don’t think that’s quite mixed enough yet, sugar.” Dean shudders at the endearment and resumes his mixing, focusing more on what Cas is doing rather than the repetitive motion of his own hand. 

Cas strokes him while grinding up against him, slow passes of his hand to match the slow undulation of his hips. He starts to quicken his pace and Dean can feel his hot breath on his neck when Cas whispers again, a little louder this time, and a lot more wrecked. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Dean? I want you so badly; you’re all I can think about.” Dean moans again in response – he seems incapable of forming actual words. He’s trying hard not to think about Jimmy because as much as he knows that this is wrong, it just feels so right. The body behind him is so familiar, yet at the same time it’s completely different. It’s better in a way that he can’t even describe but he knows that from now on, this is what he wants, what he’ll always want. “I need you, Dean. I need to feel you. I _need_ to fuck you… please, let me fuck you.” 

The spoon clatters in the bowl and Dean spins around to face Cas, crashing their lips together and kissing him like his life depends on it. “Yes, Cas, yes! Anything you want.” 

Cas rips the apron up over his head and throws it to the ground. “You. _Fuck…_ Just you.” He pulls off Dean’s flannel next but when he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt Dean stops him.

“Bedroom,” he says, and Cas nods, then follows Dean down the hall and into his room. Cas immediately pulls off Dean’s t-shirt and then pushes him down onto the bed. Dean thrills at the rough treatment and smiles to show his willingness to submit. “Is this how you want me, Cas? All laid out and at your mercy?” 

He moves to sit up but Cas is quick with a hand on his chest to push him back down. He follows this action by climbing up and straddling Dean’s thighs. “Yes, this is exactly how I want you… this time.” They kiss passionately for a few moments before Cas starts working his way down Dean’s naked chest and past his stomach. 

He stands up again and stoops down to unlace and remove Dean’s boots and socks, and then he’s back up again and taking hold of the waistline of Dean’s jeans and underwear, pulling them down and off in one smooth motion. 

Cas seems a bit stunned at the sight of Dean completely unclothed, his cock hard and leaking against his taut stomach. Dean takes Cas’s awed inaction as an opportunity to angle his body the right way on the bed and reach over to get a condom and a bottle of lube out of the bedside table. 

“Well,” Dean says. “Are you just going to stand there all night or are you going to fuck me?” Dean winks and Cas snaps back to attention and practically rips the buttons off his shirt and pants trying to get out of them as fast as humanly possible. 

He rids himself of all of his clothes but he slows down after that, stalking toward the bed and stroking himself as his eyes roam all over Dean’s naked body. He’s looking at Dean like a starving man might look at a buffet, desperate to eat but not sure where to begin. 

He kneels down on the bed, placing himself between Dean’s thighs, which Dean splays open to accommodate him. He props himself up with his left hand and leans down to kiss Dean deeply, using his right hand to caress Dean’s body. 

“You are so beautiful, Dean… So perfect for me, sweetheart.” They share a tender moment where they just stare into each other’s eyes while Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hand and Dean rubs his hands gently up and down Cas’s back. In this moment Dean feels a closeness that he’s never felt before – an intimacy that allows him to forget the rest of the world and to imagine that he could be happy like this for a long time, perhaps even a lifetime. It’s never been like this before; even with Jimmy it’s only ever felt temporary – nice enough, but still just a way to pass the time when it comes right down to it. With Cas it’s different though. He doesn’t know how, or why, but he knows… he just knows. 

The moment passes when Cas thrusts his hips against Dean, the motion bringing their hard cocks together and lighting a fire in Dean’s veins. They go back to kissing then and Dean grabs Cas’s ass and thrusts his own hips to join him in a delicious rhythm, the friction making him throb and leak even more. 

Soon enough Cas breaks the kiss and sits back on his heels. He finds the bottle of lube and pops the cap to spread a generous amount on the first couple of fingers of his right hand. He drops the bottle back down on the bed and Dean can’t help the slightly nervous feeling he has as he watches. “Just be gentle with me, ok? It’s been a while.”

That seems to give Cas pause because he tilts his head and gives Dean a confused look. “Wait… you mean Jimmy doesn’t…” 

“No, never.” At that Cas surges forward and claims Dean’s lips again. He begins to circle Dean’s hole with one wet finger, eventually pressing in gently. The slight burn is familiar, though he hasn’t felt it recently. It isn’t bad though and Cas stretches him with a practiced ease, allowing him to focus instead on the heated kisses that they share. 

When he’s ready to add a second finger, Cas crawls back down Dean’s body and licks the head of his cock before taking it in his mouth and sucking gently. Dean watches for a moment and then drops his head back to the pillow, relaxing enough so that Cas’s continued efforts at readying him go largely unnoticed. 

Before he knows it, Cas is kneeling up again and reaching for the condom. Dean pants and strokes himself while he watches Cas roll it on and then slick himself up with more lube. “Come on, Cas, I’m ready. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” 

“You want me?” Dean nods. “You want me to fuck you?” Dean whimpers and nods again and Cas leans down and positions his cock so that it’s nudging up against Dean’s entrance. “You want me to make love to you?” 

“ _Yes…_ oh please, yes.” Cas captures Dean’s mouth with his own and pushes in. It burns a bit but Cas is skilled and sure and Dean is able to focus on the overwhelming pleasure instead of the insignificant pain. “God, that feels so good…” 

And it does… it feels amazing – hot, yet tender, and Dean really wants to come. But he also wants it to last forever. “Oh, yes, Dean. You’re so tight.” Cas uses his tongue to fuck Dean’s mouth, mirroring the way that his perfect cock is fucking Dean’s ass. It’s good, great even, but Dean needs more.

“Harder,” he pleads. “Please, Cas, fuck me harder!” Cas hooks the back of Dean’s knee into the crook of his arm and bends it up against Dean’s chest, strengthening his thrusts. The change in angle also aims Cas’s cock so that it’s hitting Dean’s prostate, sending jolts of pure pleasure up his spine and down to the tips of his toes. 

“Yes! Oh, fuck, yes! Right there!” He’s starting to get close, the thrusts to his prostate causing his dick to jerk and spurt even more pre-come. He starts jerking himself off but Cas bats his hand away and resumes the stroking himself, matching up the pace of his hand with the thrusting of his hips. “Yeah, keep going… You’re gonna make me come!” 

“Oh yeah? Come on, sweetheart, come for me… I want to see it… I want to feel it…” Dean’s moans get even louder as Cas’s pace gets faster. “Now, Dean. I want you to come now.” 

So he does, God help him. He comes so hard that for a moment he finds it hard to breathe, and then he lets out a woosh of air as he starts to come back down from his orgasmic high. “ _fuuuuck…_ ,” he breathes, and Cas lets out a small laugh as he slows his pace and lets Dean’s leg drop back down to the bed. 

“That good, huh?” He slows his pace down to a very slow glide, in and out, and leans down closer so that he can kiss Dean languidly. 

“Why don’t you keep going so you can find out?” Dean taunts. Cas shoves his arms underneath Dean’s back, embracing him as closely as he can. He picks his pace back up, thrusting fast and hard. He gives Dean one quick kiss and then rests their foreheads together and closes his eyes, sharing breath as they share their bodies. “That’s it, yeah. There you go. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Cas moans and tightens his hold. “ _Yes…_ Oh, fuck, Dean, yes!” 

Dean grasps Cas’s ass with both hands and meets him thrust for thrust, faster and faster until they stutter to an incomplete stop and Cas kisses him roughly while he rides it out, finally breaking the kiss and dropping his head on Dean’s chest, panting hard when his hips still at last. “That good, huh?” Dean asks, smiling devilishly when Cas lifts his head.

“Yes… yes it was,” Cas responds, giving him one more lingering kiss before carefully pulling out and flopping down on the bed beside him. Dean turns his head and Cas meets his gaze. They share goofy smiles and hearty laughs and then a satisfied sigh when the euphoria wanes. Then Cas grasps Dean’s hand and brings it up to his mouth, placing a kiss on his knuckles before lowering it again. He keeps hold of it tough, twining their fingers together and rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“I’ll be right back,” Dean says. He leans over and gives Cas a kiss, then goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up. He returns shortly with a warm, wet washcloth. Cas is sitting on the edge of the bed, removing the condom and disposing of it. 

Dean knee-walks over the bed and settles behind him, bringing his arm around to help wipe down his stomach where Dean’s come had smeared against him. When he’s done, he pulls Cas back down to lie next to him on the bed. He knows that they should talk about what just happened but he doesn’t want to. He just wants to bask in the perfect after-glow of their perfect sex and forget that there’s anyone or anything else in the world. 

They spend the next fifteen minutes or so gently making out – kissing and caressing each other as if they had no care in the world. Their peaceful interlude is interrupted though when Dean’s phone starts going off, Jimmy’s unmistakable ringtone piercing the comfortable silence. 

“Fuck,” Dean says, the guilt that he knew would come has arrived, making him feel small and scared. He can’t bring himself to answer, knowing that if he doesn’t speak to him, then he won’t have to lie, or even worse tell the truth. He knows that he should – it’s the right thing to do in a whole mess of wrong things, but he doesn’t know if he can. He’s never had to admit something like this before; he wouldn’t even know where to start. 

He lets the call go to voicemail and then gets up and gets dressed, Cas following suit without speaking a word. He wants to know what Cas is thinking but he’s too afraid to ask. 

When he’s dressed he pulls his phone out and sees that there’s a voicemail from Jimmy so he presses play and listens to it. 

“ _Hey, babe. Just calling to let you know that I’m on my way. Sorry it took so long but I’m yours for the night and all day tomorrow, too. See you soon!_ ”

“Jimmy’s going to be here soon.” Cas slips on his shoes and walks over to Dean. He pulls Dean in and guides his head onto Cas’s shoulder. 

Planting a kiss on his head while he rubs Dean’s back, Cas whispers, “What do you want to do?” 

“We need to tell him. _I_ need to tell him,” Dean responds, lifting his head to look Cas in the eye. 

“Ok. Then we’ll tell him.” He looks confident and Dean knows that he’s sincere but the thought still makes him a bit sick to his stomach. 

“Just… not tonight. We’ll do it, ok? Just not yet.” Cas’s expression looks saddened by Dean’s words but he doesn’t pull back, and the loving way that he looks at Dean doesn’t waver. 

“Alright, Dean. Whatever you think is best. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Dean kisses him, trying desperately to recapture the feeling of togetherness that they had just minutes before. Cas breaks it off though, pulling back and saying, “I should probably go. It’s probably best if I’m not here when he arrives.” 

“Yeah, ok.” Dean leads the way back to the kitchen where Cas collects his outerwear. The last thing that he wants to do is say goodbye, but needs must, so he pulls him in and kisses him soundly before bidding his farewell. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will.” A few more moments of passionate kissing leads to Dean being pinned up against the wall – the prospect of parting making both of them even more desperate to stay together. “I wish I could stay, but I really do need to leave.” 

A swift knock on the door startles them apart and Cas plants one last quick kiss to Dean’s lips before he walks over and opens the door. 

“Oh,” Jimmy says, apparently surprised to see his twin. “You weren’t just messing with me about coming here.” He steps around Cas and focuses his attention on Dean, walking up and hugging him around the waist before he tips his head up to give him a kiss. 

Dean makes it quick and perfunctory but he still manages to see Cas’s narrow-eyed expression, his fists balled at his sides as he visibly holds himself back from saying or doing anything. 

“Well, thanks for coming and helping Dean out today, but I’m here now so he doesn’t need you anymore.” Dean doesn’t know what to say. He wants to refute Jimmy’s statement, to grab hold of Cas and never let him go. But the words get stuck in his throat and his feet seem to be stuck to the floor, keeping him from moving. 

“Cas, I-“

“It’s alright, Dean. Jimmy, I was just on my way out anyway. Have a good night and I’ll see the both of you tomorrow.” Cas walks out the door and closes it behind him and Dean wishes more than anything that he could follow.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so please don't hate me but... from here until the end it's going to be pretty angst-heavy - consider yourselves warned. I've been talking about this from the beginning but I promise - there will be a happy ending. Just... please be patient with me. 
> 
> I've got the rest of the work planned and outlined. There will be at least three more chapters and an epilogue (possibly more depending on the length of the scenes and whether any additional scenes pop up while I'm writing).
> 
> Oh, and lastly, this chapter is more Jimmy POV. I thought it only fair and right that his thoughts and feelings be addressed as well so that everyone can understand a little better what motivates his past and future actions. 
> 
> Once again... thank you all for reading and I hope that you like it.

Jimmy waits until Cas’s footsteps fade away and then he turns and loops his arms around Dean’s neck. “Tell me the truth, Dean.” 

Dean’s face visibly pales and his hands tighten their grip on Jimmy’s waist. He goes to speak but the words get stuck in his throat and he has to swallow and then clear it gruffly before trying again in a weak approximation of his normally strong baritone. “The truth about what?” He asks, attempting a small smile that ends up looking more like a grimace. 

Jimmy narrows his eyes in concentration, which only serves to make the man look even more unsettled. “The truth about how much trouble I’m in for missing dinner.” He looks markedly relieved now but Jimmy removes his arms from around Dean’s neck and takes a step back to regard him more fully. “Why? Is there some other truth that I should know about?” 

“No! No. It’s just… no, there’s nothing.” He turns away from Jimmy and walks across the kitchen to bend down and pick his apron up off the floor and put it on, tying the strings in a looping bow behind him. Jimmy spares a moment to wonder why it was on the floor in the first place but quickly brushes that thought aside. “And you’re not in trouble. You had a legitimate excuse. It was fine.” 

Dean has stepped up to the counter and is stirring the contents of a large mixing bowl when Jimmy approaches him from behind. He sets his hands on Dean’s hips and softly kisses the back of his neck. He’s expecting some sort of reaction, but what he isn’t expecting is for Dean to twist out of his hold and practically jump to the side, looking scared and brandishing a large spoon. 

“Woah, woah! Dean, what’s wrong?” He puts his hands up in a placating manner and Dean drops the hand with the spoon down to his side, dropping his head as well to look at the floor. 

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. You just startled me is all.” He goes back to the counter and sets the spoon back into the bowl before turning around and leaning back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. 

“Ok…” Jimmy doesn’t know what to think and he’s not sure he’s up to trying to figure it out. Approaching him again – slowly and from the front this time – Jimmy loosens Dean’s folded arms and snuggles up into his chest when they drop. “This better?” He glides his palms down Dean’s chest and the fronts of his thighs, eventually sliding them around and up to squeeze the globes of Dean’s ass. He jumps again, this time shooting his hands down to grasp Jimmy’s wrists and pull them away. 

“Jimmy, stop.” He yanks his wrists out of Dean’s hands and folds his arms over his own chest, feeling even more confused and also a bit offended. 

“Why?” He asks. 

Dean looks at him earnestly, and like he wants to impart some very important tidbit of information, but instead he simply turns around and goes back to stirring the mixture in the bowl, mumbling out a soft, “I need to get this done.” 

“Ok,” he says again, feeling like a broken record. “Well, is there anything I can do to help?” He looks around the kitchen but the workings of whatever dish it is that Dean is making escapes him. He assumes it’s some sort of dessert – there are sweet and somewhat spicy smells mingling with the rich, oniony scent of chili that he can smell lingering in the room. 

“No, Thank you. I just need to finish this up and then I’ll be done for the night.” Dean won’t look at him; he just continues to stare into the bowl as he stirs the mixture around. Maybe he’s just tired. God knows how exhausted Jimmy is right now. 

“Alright. Well, I promised that I was going to be here for the duration to help so if you change your mind just let me know. In the meantime, I forgot my bag out in the car and I don’t really feel like going back out to get it. Can I borrow something to sleep in?” He knows that the answer will be ‘yes’ so he starts to head for Dean’s bedroom before he’s even done asking but he’s stopped in his tracks by Dean blocking his way. 

“Yeah, sure, just let me get them for you.” He follows Dean into the bedroom and watches him quickly glance toward the unmade bed before he jogs over to his dresser and pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of thin, cotton sleep pants. “Here you go,” he says, standing awkwardly in front of the bed with the pile of clothes in his outstretched hands. “Want to take a shower?” he asks, and ok, yeah, that’s a course of action that Jimmy can get behind. 

“Absolutely.” He takes the clothes and tosses them on the bed and then grabs Dean’s hand to pull him into the bathroom. He meets resistance though when Dean refuses to move so he drops Dean’s hand and sighs, turning back to face him once again. “What is it now?” 

“I have to finish the pies.” Pies – Jimmy should have guessed. “Why don’t you shower while I do that and I’ll join you when I’m done?” He gives Jimmy what he thinks is supposed to be a reassuring smile and wraps him in a tight, swift hug, dropping a kiss on his temple before stepping away again. 

Jimmy doesn’t let him go far though – he pulls him back in and frames his face with his long, slender fingers. He looks into that handsome, freckled face for several moments before kissing his lips. Dean kisses him back, if not as enthusiastically as Jimmy might like, but he kisses him back nonetheless. 

There’s something going on with Dean, that’s for sure. But Jimmy can’t quite put his finger on what it is. So instead of pushing the issue he retreats to the bathroom to take his shower. 

He stays in the shower much longer than necessary, hoping that when Dean had said that he’d join him, he had meant _in_ the shower. When he’s shampooed and conditioned his hair twice and washed his body three times, he has to admit that Dean probably meant that he’d join him in the bedroom. So he gets out and dries off, wrapping the towel around his waist before he opens the door to go back to the bedroom, the steam from his shower dissipating as soon as he does. 

Dean must still be in the kitchen because the bedroom is empty. It looks different though and it only takes a moment for Jimmy to figure out why – the bed has been remade, the sheets and blankets both swapped out for another set. He feels a chill breeze as well and he looks to see that the window is open, the long side curtains billowing gently as the cool wind airs out the previously stuffy room. 

He doesn’t think too much of it though, instead he dresses himself in the shirt and pants that Dean had picked out earlier – forgoing underwear in hopes that it won’t be needed anyway. He decides to close the window though, the fresh air is nice but it is a bit too cold for comfort. 

As soon as he closes it, he turns around to see Dean in the doorway. He doesn’t enter the room though, just hovers there like he can’t quite decide whether he’s coming or going. 

“You know, it’s a little bit late for the hard-to-get act, Dean. But if you’re wanting to spice things up, I’m open to suggestions.” The first genuine smile of the night graces Dean’s lips, but it’s small and it’s fleeting – a barely there upturning at the corners of his mouth before it’s gone again, and then he’s shyly rubbing the back of his neck as he straightens up again. 

“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Help yourself to whatever you’d like in the kitchen, I’ll be back in a bit.” He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns back around and crosses the hall, closing the bathroom door firmly behind him. 

Jimmy isn’t hungry or thirsty so instead he pulls back the covers and slips into bed, reaching over to grab the cable box remote before settling back into the pillows and clicking on the tv. 

He clicks around, passing over a rerun of Dr. Sexy, M.D. (he has no idea what Dean sees in that show), and a nature documentary about the dwindling honey bee population (he considers texting Cas to tell him about it, but then he remembers that they’re fighting right now so he decides not to), eventually landing on some show about vampires that has an actor who looks remarkably like Balthazar. 

He watches as the man strolls up to the two main characters at a bar and speaks to them in a soft-spoken British accent. His eyes don’t twinkle quite like Balthazar’s had, but the resemblance is striking, and Jimmy lets his hand drift down to land on his cock, squeezing gently while he remembers the fun evening of playful banter that he’d spent with the cheeky flirt. 

He had asked Jimmy to come back to his hotel room with him when their dinner was done. And Jimmy had considered it, he really had. It wouldn’t have been the first time that he’d slept with a co-worker, obviously; it wouldn’t have even been the first time that he’d slept with a co-worker while he was seeing another co-worker. Though, that had only happened once before and it had eventually ended with all three of them in bed together, so he doesn’t really count that as cheating… not really. 

With Dean it’s different though. Believe it or not (though most probably would believe it), this has been one of his longest relationships to date. It had started out the same – instant mutual attraction, sex after the first date. But it had quickly turned into something more. He feels comfortable with Dean – Dean feels like a friend in a way that no other of his lovers ever has. 

Don’t get him wrong – the sex is amazing; probably the best he’s ever had. But Dean is also caring and considerate and there for him in a way that he’s only ever felt with one other person before… Cas. Which is good considering that he and Cas aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now. 

The thought of Cas makes him halt in the process of stroking his half-hard cock. He huffs and flings his hands behind his head, lying down more fully and glancing around the room as he tries to ignore the painful feeling of loss he gets whenever he thinks about his twin.

Because he’s got Cas on his mind though, it isn’t surprising when his gaze zeros in on a very familiar sight not three feet from the bed. Peeking out of the hamper is the end of a deep blue necktie – a necktie that Jimmy could pick out of a line-up of twenty other solid blue neckties if asked to. He flings the covers back and stalks over to the hamper, throwing open the lid and grabbing up the offending accessory in both hands. 

His heart is beating quickly as he fumbles with the strip of fabric, pulling it through his hands until he reaches the end and then hesitantly flipping it over to the backside. And sure enough… when he lifts the back flaps of the tie, a small C.N. is embroidered in red block letters, confirming what Jimmy already knew – it’s Cas’s tie, his favorite tie, the tie that he never takes off unless he’s completely disrobing so as not to risk losing it. 

He hears the water shut off in the bathroom and darts back to the bed, slipping under the covers again and shoving the tie down deep in his lap. 

What does he do? Suddenly everything makes sense – Dean’s strange behavior, the clean bedding, the open window, Dean’s insistence that they shower separately. Dean and Cas had sex. Dean cheated on him… with his brother. Cas had slept with his boyfriend. All of this had happened while he had sat joking and flirting with Balthazar, actually contemplating doing the very same thing. 

But he hadn’t. 

What does he do now?

He’s not even sure exactly how he should feel right now. Should he be outraged? Heartbroken? Should he confront Dean with screaming and yelling? Throw things and tell him to go fuck himself and then leave and never see him again? Should he just pretend like it never happened? Hide the tie and let Dean think that he’s gotten away with it – turn a blind eye when it inevitably happens again? 

He has no idea. This has never happened to him before. He’s only ever been the cheater, never the one cheated on (at least not to his knowledge), and with his brother, no less… 

Does that make it better or worse, he wonders? He has the sudden delirious urge to call Michael or Lucifer and ask them how he’s supposed to handle a situation like this. But no, that wouldn’t work. When Michael and Lucifer do this kind of thing to each other, Jimmy is pretty sure that they do it completely out of spite. And whatever Cas’s reasons for betraying him like this, he can’t imagine that that is all there is to it. 

His train of thought is cut short when the bathroom door is opened and Dean steps through wearing a towel slung low around his hips. He avoids eye contact while he walks over to the dresser and clothes himself in boxer briefs, a t-shirt, and a pair of thin, cotton sleep pants – an outfit very similar to what he loaned Jimmy. 

The way he dresses himself is different though. His face is serious, and each piece of clothing is put on with the care and focus of a warrior putting on a suit of armor – mentally and physically preparing himself for battle and defense.

“So… how was your evening? Anything exciting happen?” Ok, apparently Jimmy has decided to try to talk about it, to push Dean to see how committed he is to lying. 

He’s expecting Dean to brush it off, to give some sort of non-answer and quickly try to change the subject – it’s what he would do, after all, if the tables were turned. Instead, Dean sighs and steels himself, turning around and walking up to the bed only to seat himself gently, facing Jimmy. He takes the remote and mutes the tv and then takes one of Jimmy’s hands in his own two, rubbing small circles into his skin. His eyes look red-rimmed and shiny and he seems to take a few moments to try to compose himself before speaking. 

“Jimmy, I… I-I need to tell you something…” Wow, he’s actually going to just come right out and say it. Ballsy move. “Something happened between Cas and me earlier.” Jimmy watches as a single tear starts sliding down Dean’s face. He’s quick to wipe it away though, raising his head momentarily to look at the ceiling and sniff away the sudden congestion in his sinuses before taking a deep breath and looking at Jimmy once again. “I slept with him.” 

It’s real. He’s said it and it’s real now and Jimmy _still_ doesn’t know how he should be feeling. So he just sits there in silence, watching Dean watching him. He’s on tenterhooks, Jimmy can tell, the tears are falling freely now as Dean waits for Jimmy’s response. Jimmy realizes that his hand is still gripped tightly in Dean’s grasp but surprisingly, it’s a comfort. So he moves his other hand to join them as well, gentling Dean’s white-knuckled grip, which seems to encourage Dean to continue even though Jimmy still hasn’t said a word. 

“I know that you can’t forgive me. What I did? It’s unforgivable. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to speak to me again. Just… don’t blame Cas. Or at least tell me that you’ll try to forgive him. This was my fault. It was my fault and I don’t deserve you, but if you can forgive him then at least when you’re gone I’ll know that-“

“Wait. Dean, just wait.” Shit. Dean thinks that Jimmy is going to break up with him. And maybe he should, at that. This was, after all, the exact situation that he had been fearing ever since Cas starting showing an interest in Dean. He supposes that he should be feeling betrayed – disrespected and unappreciated – and he does. But if he’s honest with himself, it’s his pride that’s hurt the most. He’d finally had something that Cas wanted but couldn’t have – something that made him the envy of the brother that he’d always looked up to, that he’d always tried to emulate and impress. There was this one thing that Jimmy had that Cas didn’t and now Cas had it too. 

But he could fix this. He could regain the upper hand with his brother and keep his relationship with Dean intact and everything will be fine. 

He removes his hands from Dean’s grasp and reaches down to pull out the blue tie, bringing it out from underneath the covers and laying it gently on top. 

“You already knew…” Dean says, nodding to himself and clearing his throat. 

“Yes, Dean. I knew. But I appreciate your honesty.” Dean lets out a self-deprecating chuckle, then breathes deeply and waits for what Jimmy is sure Dean thinks is the inevitable axe to fall. “And I forgive you.” 

“What?” Dean straightens up, looking confused, and maybe even a little bit frightened, though Jimmy doesn’t know what that’s all about. “But I- but you- but… why?” 

“Because I can. Because I want to. Because I’m not ready to give you up, and if we’re going to stay together then we have to move past this.” Dean’s looking a little pale now, but the tears have stopped so Jimmy takes that as a good sign. “You’ll have to make it up to me, of course… and not do it again, obviously… but I think we can get through this, you and me. Maybe it will even make us stronger.” There, that sounds like the kind of sappy bullshit that people say in this type of situation. 

“Ok… and what about Cas?” Dean asks. Hmm… what about Cas, indeed. Honestly, he’s surprised that Cas had it in him. He’s always been so careful about never doing anything that might hurt Jimmy, even at a personal cost to himself. He knew that Cas had a crush, but he never thought he’d take it this far. There’s a first time for everything though, Jimmy thinks. 

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, Dean. What Cas did was hurtful.” Dean drops his gaze to the tie in Jimmy’s lap and a couple more tears make their way down his cheeks. “But as long as you two stay away from each other then I don’t see why he and I can’t continue on as we have before.” 

“Alright,” he concedes. 

“I’m serious, Dean. Obviously you can still talk to each other if absolutely necessary, but no more time alone. No more phone calls or texts – don’t think I don’t know about those too.” 

Dean pales again and darts his eyes toward his cell phone, which is lying on the bedside table, before returning his gaze to Jimmy and then lowering his head again – guilt and shame evident in his face. “Ok,” he says, quiet and contrite. “Oh,” he says suddenly, seeming to remember something. “What about tomorrow? He’s going to be here for the party… am I just supposed to ignore him? Should I call him and tell him not to come?” 

“No. Let him come. You need to talk to him one last time anyway. Tell him how it’s going to be from now on.” At that, Dean abruptly stands up and starts pacing the room. The tears are back in full force but he quickly gets them under control and comes to a halt next to the bed. 

“Ok, Jimmy… alright. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.” And isn’t that a sentiment that Jimmy will never tire of hearing? 

Jimmy reaches over and places the tie on his own nightstand, then turns back and motions for Dean to join him on the bed. “Come here,” he says. He pulls back the covers and Dean slides in. Jimmy puts a palm to Dean’s nape and pulls him in for a kiss. Dean kisses back, hesitantly at first, but more sure after a few moments. “It’s ok. We’ll be ok,” Jimmy says, trying to sound reassuring. “Let’s just go to sleep, ok?” 

Dean nods and they both lie down, assuming their customary sleeping positions – both on their sides, Dean curled up behind Jimmy, holding him close with an arm hugging around his chest and his face burrowed into the thicket of Jimmy’s dark hair. 

He takes a moment to lean over and turn off the lamp and then he settles back into the warmth of Dean’s arms. He closes his eyes then, and tries to pretend like he can’t feel Dean gently sobbing behind him as he slowly drifts off to sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the world is fucked but at least we still have fanfiction! 
> 
> Warning: This chapter ends on a cliffhanger. It was done purely for length reasons, but if that's something that really bothers you, you might want to wait to read it until chapter 19 posts. 
> 
> Also, there's 2 new tags for this chapter (unsafe sex & barebacking). I can see that bothering some people also so I just wanted to point it out here as well as in the tags. 
> 
> It's been a really rough couple of days so I could use all the love that you all are willing to give. Be assured it isn't one-sided though! I love all my readers and I hope that you all stay safe in the coming months and years. Remember what Misha and Jensen said... You are not alone. ♥

Half an hour before the guests are set to arrive, Dean takes the opportunity of putting on his costume while Jimmy goes out to his car to get his own. He doesn’t want to risk Jimmy seeing the secret new addition that he’s still not sure that he should be wearing. In the end he just had to though, he’d been fantasizing about it for days. 

The rest of his costume consists of a fitted black suit, blood-red button-up shirt, and black shoes and socks. Then he’d gotten a little crafty and sewed a long, pointy, red devil tail onto a red elastic waistband, and two red horns attached to clips that he could seamlessly hide in his usually pointy hairstyle. He completes the look with a bit of black eyeliner and the aforementioned secret new addition and then looks at himself in the floor-length mirror in his bedroom – not too shabby, if he does say so himself. 

“Mmm… well aren’t you one sexy devil?” Jimmy says, coming in the room with his overnight duffle and a garment bag. 

Dean smiles slightly in response. He figures the outfit is pretty fitting. No matter how this day pans out, it’s bound to be pure Hell for Dean, at the very least. Well, at least his bloodshot eyes match his costume. 

“Do you need any help with your costume?” Dean asks. If he’s going to try to make this work with Jimmy, he has to keep reminding himself to act like he had before… Before Cas had come into his life and made him question everything he’d ever thought about romantic love, passion, friendship, and life, basically. But he can do this. He made a promise to Jimmy that he had then broken and it’s his duty to make it right in whatever way Jimmy wants him to. 

Jimmy’s costume is similar to Dean’s in that it’s a suit. It’s white though, instead of black, and instead of a button-up and a suit coat, he’s wearing only a white waistcoat on his upper body and a pair of large fluffy white wings that arch up around his ears and reach down to the backs of his knees. They lie in a resting position so that they aren’t much wider than the width of his body, and he even has a shiny gold halo attached to a black headband that is well hidden in his raven locks. 

“Could you help me with my wings?” Dean picks the wings up off the bed and helps Jimmy don them – slipping them onto one arm and then the next. Once they’re in place, Jimmy picks up the halo headband and walks over to the mirror to place it on his head. Dean follows and looks over his shoulder, watching him intently in the mirror's reflection. 

He can’t help but think that the costume would be more fitting for Cas somehow. His name is angelic, after all. It’s a bit off though and Dean scrutinizes the mirror image in front of him to try to visualize what changes would make it perfect…

The halo would have to go, first of all. It just wouldn’t look right above Cas’s stern face and soul-piercing blue eyes. Next, the white suit would have to change. Cas’s everyday black suit and tan trench coat come to mind – the way it rustles in the wind like the susurrus of flapping wings gives Cas an already ethereal quality that can’t be put aside. And lastly, the wings are all wrong. They should be black, he thinks, for starters… but also large and spread out regally like the powerful celestial being that he represents. 

The image in his mind brings a wistful smile to his face, which Jimmy sees and believes is intended for him. “I knew you’d like it,” he says, turning then to face Dean and kiss him deeply. “I wish we had more time before the party starts, but I suppose we’ll just have to have some fun with these costumes later tonight.” 

Dean closes his eyes as he continues to kiss Jimmy, slipping his fingers through the silky-soft feathers of his wings and pretending that they’re inky-black and attached to an actual angel – an angel with a deep voice that calls him ‘sweetheart’ and makes Dean feel like the most treasured human ever to have walked the Earth. 

Before his imaginings can get to out of hand, a knock sounds at the door and then they hear Sam shouting from the kitchen. “Dean?! Drinks are here, man! Where should I put ‘em?” 

“Party time!” Jimmy says with an enthusiasm that Dean has a very hard time trying to match. He puts on a fake smile though. He’s got to do his best to get through today. “I’ll go help Sam.” Jimmy gives him one last peck on the lips and then speeds out into the kitchen to give his assistance. 

Dean feels his phone vibrate in his pocket so he takes a deep breath before pulling it out, dread filling the pit of his stomach because of who it might be. And of course, it’s from Cas: _Can’t wait to see you today. I didn’t sleep well last night. I longed to have you with me… to feel your body next to me… to kiss you, and touch you, and make you mine. But also to talk with you… to speak of your heart, and mine, and everything in-between. I miss you, Dean... so much._ The words make Dean’s heart skip a beat right before the poor thing breaks, the weight of the words that Dean must say to Cas feels like poison running through his veins, eating away more and more at his insides with every passing minute. 

He can’t bear responding, even if he could think of anything suitable to say, so he puts the phone back in his pocket, plasters the fake smile back on his face, and goes out to face what he must. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later the party is in full swing – Dean’s already grilled up hamburgers and hot dogs, and along with all the other food that he had made (and a few things that friends had brought) everyone is eating and drinking and generally making merry. Bobby’s floor of the house is off limits to party-goers, but Dean’s top floor apartment, his deck, and all of the backyard is full of costumed people in varying states of drunkenness having a fabulous time. 

There’s still no sign of Cas, which has done very bad things for Dean’s nerves. Every few minutes he finds himself searching the crowd and feeling both disappointment and relief when he doesn’t find him. The subsequent adrenaline rushes and crashes are starting to make him feel a little sick to his stomach. 

“Hey there, demon Dean… would you care to have a go at corrupting this angel?” Jimmy’s speech is a bit slurred but he’s not completely wasted – he’s kind of a light-weight so he probably hasn’t had more than a beer or two so far. 

“Oh? And what did you have in mind, angel?” Jimmy nuzzles his face into Dean’s throat, placing sloppy kisses on his neck, so Dean wraps his arms around his back, fondling the silky feathers once again. 

“I need more booze. I’m sure a bad influence like you could help me with that, couldn’t you, you sexy little devil, you?” Jimmy lifts his head and flutters his eyelashes at Dean, which pulls a small smile out of him almost against his will. 

“There’s a whole cooler of beer right over there, Jimmy. Why do you need me to get it for you?” 

“I don’t want _that_ ,” he says with some disdain, and a gesture at the cooler sitting not five feet away. “I want _wine_ , Dean. Red wine! It’s like, the blood of Christ, right? Isn’t that what angels are spose ta drink?” 

Dean sighs and rolls his eyes, though Jimmy doesn’t seem to notice. He tries to think of whether or not he even owns any bottles of red wine, and he suddenly remembers that he has a few in the basement of the house. It’s got a small room that works as a root/wine cellar so that’s probably where it is. “Ok, Jimmy. I think there might be some in the basement. I’ll go look for you, ok?” 

“Ok, Dean. But hurry back! Charlie said that there’s going to be karaoke in a little while. Won’t that be fun?!” 

“Sure, Jimmy, so much fun.” He gives Jimmy a quick peck on the lips and then slips out of his embrace to walk through the yard and back to the side door of the building. He runs into Gabriel coming through the gate just as he reaches the door. 

“Dean-o! Quite a shindig you got going on here. Nice costume. What are you, the devil? Where’s your pitch fork?” He fully enters the yard and it’s then that Dean notices that he’s brought a guest with him. He looks familiar but he’s not sure exactly where he’s seen him before. 

“I’m a demon, Gabe. What exactly are you supposed to be?” He’s dressed in a white button-up with a red vest and a ridiculous black mustache, and his hair’s slicked back with some greasy goop. 

“I’m a Hungarian room service attendant!” he says, like that’s a totally normal, every-day costume to don. 

“A Hungarian room service attendant?” Dean asks, his skepticism glaringly obvious. 

“Yeah! It’s _full service_ room service, _if ya know what I mean…_ ” He emphasizes this with a seriously exaggerated eyebrow waggle and unfortunately Dean does know exactly what he means. 

“Dude, gross.” Trying to get that terrifying image out of his head, Dean turns his attention to the man standing behind Gabriel, just looking around, and taking everything in like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Who’s your friend?” 

“Oh, come now, Dean… don’t you remember Damon? He’s one of my best servers! And also my date for the night.” Dean gives the man a nod in greeting, which Damon returns with a devilish smirk. 

“And by ‘date’ he means co-worker who he’s promised to give the rest of the weekend off if he came to this lovely party with him.” 

Dean gives him a knowing look and welcomes them into the yard gesturing to the table where the treats are set up so that they can put down the caramel apples that Gabriel made. “Ok, but what about your costume, Damon? What are you supposed to be?” He’s dressed in simple dark jeans and a t-shirt with a snug-fitting black leather jacket and black boots. 

Damon steps up close to Dean and coaxes him to lean down so that they’re face to face before he smiles sweetly and then says, “I’m a vampire!” He hisses loudly and bears a rather frighteningly realistic set of fangs, which causes Dean to leap back with a _very_ undignified yelp. He clutches his chest and breathes heavily to try to calm the frantic beating of his heart while Gabriel laughs like a drunk hyena. Damon just winks and smirks at him before walking away, presumably to scare the shit out of other unsuspecting guests, the bastard. 

Dean then takes the opportunity to avoid any further embarrassment by slipping through the side door and down the inside steps that lead to the basement. It’s a large basement that runs the length of the house and the root/wine cellar is all the way on the opposite end as the door. He reaches it and goes inside, looking around for the wine that he’s pretty sure is still here. 

He eventually has to get down on his hands and knees so that he can look on the bottom shelf. He sees a few bottles and grabs one, making an “Aha!” sound, but when he turns around to get back up he notices a pair of feet dressed in cowboy boots staring back at him. 

Still on his knees, he follows the body up over a pair of navy blue scrubs and a white lab coat (with a stethoscope wrapped around the collar), all the way up to a teasing smile, bright blue eyes, and wild dark hair. 

“ _Sexy…_ ” Dean breathes, finding his mouth suddenly very dry. 

“That’s _Doctor_ Sexy, to you.” Cas winks at him and Dean suddenly realizes that he’s on his knees with one hand on a bottle of wine, the other bracing himself on the door frame, and the beginnings of a truly magnificent boner in his pants. 

“Uhhh…” This is not the way he wanted to do this. Maybe he should have just told Cas not to come to the party. He could have gone over to speak to him earlier, or tomorrow, or something. But instead he’s got Doctor Cas, standing here like he just walked right out of Dean’s wet dream hall of fame, and they’re all alone in the basement, and Dean’s on his knees. Hell. Yes, this is definitely Hell. 

“What’s the matter, kitten? Cat got your tongue?” Cas steps forward and cups Dean’s neck and jaw in one of his large hands, tipping his head up to look into his eyes. Dean can see the want in them – the arousal darkening the blue to a stormy hue which gets smaller and smaller as his pupils get larger to take in more of the image before him. 

Dean closes his eyes and whimpers, tightening his grip on the doorframe to try to help ground himself. But he doesn’t speak. He can’t speak. How could he possibly speak the words that he knows he must say? 

“Shh, shh, shh… it’s alright, sweetheart. Why don’t you stand up, hm?” He helps Dean get to a standing position and then gently pries the bottle of wine from his hand and places it on a nearby shelf. Then he cups Dean’s neck and jaw again, this time pulling him forward into a brain-melting kiss that seems to knock out Dean’s higher reasoning skills because he immediately kisses back, opening his mouth to allow Cas’s tongue to do whatever it will – to pillage and plunder and stake its claim with no resistance whatsoever. 

Before he knows it, Cas has pushed him back further into the cellar and has started working his mouth down over Dean’s jaw and throat – wet, sucking kisses that are so hot and so perfect that Dean almost doesn’t even realize that Cas has unbuttoned his suit coat and has worked it down over his shoulders, stopping at his elbows so that the movement of his arms is restricted. Dean struggles a bit (just to see just how easily he can move) but that only causes Cas to tighten his hold even more. 

Dean moans at the feeling – shit, he didn’t even realize that he was into that sort of thing – and bucks forward to try to get some friction on his throbbing dick. 

“Patience, kitten. We have time.” Cas loosens his grip on Dean’s suit coat, then pushes it down and off of Dean’s arms, letting it fall to the floor. After which he begins to slowly unbutton Dean’s shirt while placing soft kisses to each inch of newly uncovered skin. “We’ve got our whole lives to-“

“Wait,” Dean says suddenly, grabbing Cas’s hands to halt any further progress. 

“Wait for what? What’s wrong, Dean?”

Dean takes a deep breath and tries to steel himself for what he has to say. Cas is looking at him with such care and concern and Dean really doesn’t want to have to tell him, but he can’t not. This has gone too far as it is. He has to tell Cas the truth. 

“We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Cas takes a small step back but doesn’t let go of Dean’s hands.

“I told him. Last night. Jimmy knows.” Cas looks a bit surprised at that but the surprise soon clears into a look of hopeful happiness, a beatific smile spreading across his gorgeous face. 

“Well that’s good, isn’t it? What happened? Did he not take it well? Do you want to give it some time so it’s not like we’re rubbing it in his face? I can understand that.” Dean’s stomach is sinking further and further with every sentence out of Cas’s beautiful mouth. God, he seems so happy. _How can I possibly tell him?_ Dean thinks to himself. “It’s alright, Dean. I can wait. I can wait as long as you need me to.” 

He suddenly feels the tears welling up in his eyes. He can’t do this! How? How can he possibly do this?! 

“Dean? What is it? What’s wrong?” He let’s go of one of Dean’s hands to use his thumb to wipe away the tears that run down Dean’s cheeks. “Tell me.” 

“I told him and he… he…”

“What did he do? Did he hurt you?!” Cas’s face goes from sweet concern to seething rage in two seconds flat so Dean is quick to correct him. 

“He forgave me!” Cas’s wrath deflates but now he’s looking confused, he squints his eyes and tilts his head to the side a little, trying to understand where Dean is going with this. So Dean sighs again and scrubs a hand down his face before continuing. “He said that he forgives me and that he wants to stay together.”

“And then you told him that that’s not what you want, right? You told him that you want to be with me instead… right?” The look on Cas’s face is desperate now. Scared, but hopeful, and Dean can’t bear it. 

“No. I couldn’t.” 

“I see.” Cas lets go of Dean’s other hand and steps back completely. “It seems as though I have misunderstood your feelings for me. Don’t worry, Dean, you won’t have to suffer my advances any longer. I’ll just be going now.” He turns to go but Dean can’t let him. Not like this.

“Cas, wait!” He grabs Cas’s elbow and pulls him back around to face him. “It’s not- I don’t- That’s not it, ok?” Cas stands silently, waiting for Dean to elaborate. “Look, I’m not a cheater, ok? Well, I wasn’t. Not until you.” He stalls again, trying to gather his thoughts and explain this in a way that Cas might understand. “I made a commitment to Jimmy. He trusted me and I betrayed that trust. It’s not that I wouldn’t rather be with you, because I would-“

“Then why can’t you?!” Cas steps close again and cradles Dean’s face in his hands, pleading with both his words and his eyes. “It’s not like you’re married or anything. You don’t even live together! Just tell him that you want to end it and then you can be with me!” 

“I can’t!” Dean grabs Cas’s hands and pulls them off his face. He knows that the hurt that he can see in those blue eyes is shining out of his as well, but it can’t be helped. This is painful. “I hurt him. I wronged him. And I have to do what I must to make it right. According to him, what will make it right is to stay with him… and to stop seeing you… and talking to you.” 

“What?! You work for me. How is that going to work?” 

“He said that necessary conversations and interactions are ok but that private ones are unacceptable.” 

“This is- Dean, this is ridiculous! Please, please don’t do this! I can’t lose you, not unless that’s what you truly want.” He stares into Dean’s eyes waiting for an answer and Dean just can’t hold back anymore. This is what he wants… _who_ he wants, standing right here in front of him. 

“ _Cas…_ ,” Dean breathes, a split second before he lunges forward and crashes their lips together. It’s a forfeit, he knows it. He’s giving up the feeling of doing what he knows is right for what he can’t believe could ever be wrong. 

Cas is quick to take control, as Dean has come to expect and can’t help but love. He closes the door behind him and plunges them into darkness so Dean takes a moment to find the chain hanging down from the ceiling, that when pulled illuminates the confined space with a dim bulb. It’s enough to see each other though so that’s all that matters. 

Cas continues kissing Dean and Dean realizes that he’s started shaking only when Cas pulls back and looks into his face, one hand holding him close by the small of his back, and one hand petting his cheek. “Shh, Dean, it’s ok. What is it, sweetheart? What do you want? What do you need?” He’s pretty overwhelmed so it takes him a few moments to think of a response, but when he does, only one thing comes to mind…

“You, Cas. I need you. I need to feel you inside me… _please, Cas…_ ” Cas quiets him with a kiss – a gentle thing that conveys to Dean that he will get what he needs… that Cas will give it to him. 

“Alright, sweetheart. Don’t worry, you have me. I’m right here.” He continues to lavish gentle, but firm, reassuring kisses to Dean’s lips and face, jaw and throat, all while using his clever fingers to completely unbutton and remove Dean’s shirt. 

When he gets to the button of Dean’s pants, Dean suddenly stiffens, remembering what Cas will find when he pulls down that zipper. Cas gives Dean a questioning look but when all he gets in response is a deep blush and a nervous look, he continues unfastening Dean’s pants, paying much closer attention this time. 

“Oh, _kitten…_ how perfect you are.” He drops to his knees, slowly dragging Dean’s pants down to the ground. He doesn’t go further than that though, just leaving Dean’s shoes and socks on and letting the pants pool around his ankles. 

He slides his soft hands up the length of Dean’s legs, finally ending when he reaches Dean’s hips. He grabs onto those hips with a very strong grip and leans forward to nuzzle the soft red satin of the panties which are straining under the large bulge of Dean’s erection. 

Dean moans and tries to stabilize his stance, but the pants around his ankles keep him from widening them enough, so instead Dean braces his hands on shelves on either walls and tries not to let his knees buckle at the sinful pleasure he feels when Cas starts mouthing at his satin-clad dick. The wetness from Cas’s saliva is mixing with the patch of precome and Dean thinks he’s about to lose it right here and now. 

“Cas! Stop! Please, stop. If you don’t stop you’re gonna make me come!” Cas gives one last full-length lick and a short suck on the head before pulling back and standing up once again. 

“I want you to, Dean. I want you to come in those pretty panties – get them all messed up for me.” Dean whines because, yeah, that would be awesome, but it’s not what he wants right now. “But I made you a promise, didn’t I? So that will have to wait. Or… maybe we can do both? How would you like that, kitten?” Dean whimpers at that – he doesn’t know where this ‘kitten’ thing came from, but _fuck_ , he really likes it. 

“Yes, Cas, _yes_ … that’s what I want.” Cas gives an affirmative noise and begins to take off his lab coat. “Wait!” Cas stops instantly, the coat halfway off his shoulder and gives Dean a questioning look. “It’s just… can you keep the costume on, maybe?” Slowly sliding the coat back into place, Cas’s questioning look morphs into a predatory smirk as he sidles back up into Dean’s personal space. 

“I think that can be arranged. Are you going to call me, ‘Doctor’?” Dean blushes again and averts his gaze, for some reason terribly embarrassed by admitting this to Cas. 

“We’ll see,” he says, because while he kinda wants to, that’s not really what this is about right now. It’s Cas he wants – the outfit is just a bonus. “So… how are we going to do this?” Dean gestures around the small room, pointing out the lack of bed, or even floor space, along with the absence of any supplies they might need, like lube and condoms. 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, kitten. A doctor always comes prepared.”

“I thought that was the boy scouts?” Dean asks, causing Cas to roll his eyes while he roots around in the pockets of his lab coat. 

“Yeah, well I certainly hope the boy scouts aren't this kind of prepared.” He smiles triumphantly as he thrusts a handful of small packages into the air in front of Dean’s face. Dean looks closer and sees that Cas is holding a couple of condoms and a few sample-size packages of lube. “Oh! And this!” He pulls out his other hand and offers a red lollipop to Dean, who smiles and laughs, but takes it nonetheless. “Now… where were we?” 

Dean places the lollipop on the shelf next to the wine bottle and watches Cas place the rest of the packages back into the pocket of his lab coat. When he’s done that, they go right back to making out, kissing and touching, squeezing and pinching, moaning and sighing. It’s not long though before Cas starts to get impatient so he spins Dean around so that his hands are braced against a shelf that’s lining the back wall – his stance still restricted by the pants around his ankles. 

“I think you need a _thorough_ checkup. Don’t you, kitten?” He accentuates his words with a thrust of his hard dick against Dean’s satin-clad ass, but makes a confused noise when he realizes that something is blocking his way. “What’s this?” he asks, and Dean looks over his shoulder to see the devil tail hanging down from the attached waistband. 

“Ok, first surgical procedure… vestigial tail removal. How do I…?” Dean chuckles and twists the waistband around so that the Velcro closure is facing the back. “Aha!” Cas shouts as he rips open the Velcro and tosses the tail to the floor. “Success!” He leans up and kisses Dean’s neck and then whispers in his ear, “That will be $30,000, please.” 

Dean just chuckles and firmly pushes Cas’s head away. “$30,000?” 

“Yes, I’m giving you the friends and family discount.” Dean laughs again, but it quickly morphs into a moan when Cas sneaks his hand around to squeeze Dean’s dick. “Now hush. You still haven’t gotten your prostate exam. And that one I’m throwing in for free.” Dean leans his forehead against his folded arms and Cas starts working his way down Dean’s back. 

When he’s back on his knees, with his face level with Dean’s ass, Dean thinks that he’ll finally pull the panties down so that they can get to the good part… well, the _really_ good part, but instead he just pushes them to the side, and gently pulls his cheeks apart to expose Dean’s hole. 

Dean tries to arch his back as much as he can and yelps in surprise when he feels a warm, wet tongue dragging heavily over his sensitive pucker. “Jesus!” he shouts, doing his best not to tense up at the unexpected, though very wonderful, feeling. 

“I thought I was playing a doctor? If I’m going to be Jesus then I’m going to need a different costume, Dean.” 

“You know, Cas, I can think of a much better way for you to use that sarcastic mouth of yours right now.” 

“Oh? And how’s that? Do you want to try coming up with a limerick? I’m pretty good at rhyming. How’s this: 

_There was a mechanic named Dean_  
_Who’s eyes were the greenest of green_  
_But under his pants’ fasten_  
_Were pretty panties of satin_  
_More beautiful than ever was seen_

“No?” Dean’s shoulders are shaking with his quiet laughter. “I could try another? There-“

“Cas! Can the poetry and stick your tongue in my ass!” 

“Well, if you insist…” Cas does just as he’s told, leaning forward quickly and unceremoniously jabbing the point of his tongue just past Dean’s tight rim. Dean has to force himself to relax again – it feels good, but it’s a bit abrupt. 

Cas pulls back quickly though, laving over the entrance to soothe the burn. He works tirelessly for several minutes, until Dean is moaning and squirming. When he pulls back completely, he’s only gone for a moment before he’s back and Dean can feel two slick fingers circling his loosened hole. 

“Cas, hurry, _please…_ I need to feel you inside of me.” Dean can appreciate a thorough, unrushed prep most of the time. This… this is not one of those times. He feels like he’s on fire. He aches to be one with Cas again, to feel Cas filling him up. He wants it so bad he can taste it! 

Cas gets to his feet without removing his two fingers from Dean’s hole. He continues to stretch him as he pushes down the front of his scrub pants and underwear and takes his own dick into his free hand, stroking it lightly and bouncing the leaking head against Dean’s plump ass. “Soon, sweetheart… very soon. Don’t want to hurt you.” Dean sighs and resigns himself to the wait, but tries to hurry it along by arching his back some more and pumping his hips, pushing back on Cas’s (now three) fingers. 

He lets out a frustrated whine and Cas finally takes mercy on him by removing his fingers and taking a condom out of his pocket. He’s stopped in the process of ripping open the package by Dean’s hand being placed on top of his. 

“Wait,” he says, twisting around so that they’re at least half facing each other. Cas just stands there, more confusion clouding his face. 

“Have you changed your mind? Do you want to stop?” He can see the disappointment on Cas’s face, but also the sincerity. Dean could just say the word and Cas would walk away right now. That’s not why he stopped him though. It’s stupid, he knows… monumentally stupid. But he has to ask, he wants it so bad. 

“No, I haven’t changed my mind. I still want you… still need you. It’s just… Can we do it without the condom?” His nerves coalesce into a tight, angry ball in the pit of his stomach when Cas just continues standing there with his hand on the small, square package. Just standing there, not talking. 

Dean is about to say, ‘nevermind, just forget about it,’ when Cas shoves the condom back into his pocket and surges forward to kiss Dean passionately. 

“I’ve never- not once- are you sure?” Cas asks, words interspersed between heated kisses. 

“I have never either. But yes, I’m sure. I need to feel you so bad, feel everything. I need to feel you come inside me – to feel you with me even when you’re gone.” If either of them notice the foreboding nature of that last statement, they don’t acknowledge it. 

“ _Dean..._ ” Cas does stand back, but only long enough to shuck the lab coat and the scrub top, pausing once more to retrieve another packet of lube which he uses to slick up his weeping erection. Dean twists back so that he’s facing the shelf again and Cas steps in and lines himself up with Dean’s entrance. “You’re sure?” he asks, not wanting to leave any doubt. 

“I’m sure, absolutely sure.” With that, Cas pushes in, trying his best to be gentle but not being very successful. Dean can tell my his guttural moan that the feeling is incredible, and before they know it, Cas has bottomed out and they’re both slightly shaking, the intense pleasure causing tremors to course over both of their bodies. 

Dean waits for Cas to move but he seems to have shorted out or something – his body is flush up against Dean’s back with his forehead rested on the back of Dean’s neck and his arms holding him tightly around Dean’s chest. Dean squeezes his channel and slightly rotates his hips, but all that does is pull another loud moan out of Cas and makes him tighten his arms. “Are you all right?” Dean asks, wondering if he may have broken the poor man. 

“Just… just give me a moment. This feels…” He pulls out a mere inch and thrusts back in again. “ _Oh, God…_ this feels so good…” 

“Well, gird up those loins of yours, Cas, because I can only imagine it gets better from here. And you’re kinda leavin’ me hangin’ here so…” Without any warning, Cas pulls back, almost pulling out completely, before thrusting back in. They both moan loudly this time, but Cas doesn’t stop there. He shifts his feet so that he can lean back and look down while he pounds into Dean, both hands keeping a bruising grip on Dean’s panty-clad hips. He has to hook a thumb into the edge of the panties to keep them out of the way, but Dean doesn’t mind. The stretch puts extra pressure on Dean’s trapped dick, causing it to slide back and forth over the silky satin. It feels incredible, to say the least. 

“Cas! Oh, yes! Fuck, right there!” Cas does his best to hit that same spot over and over again for a while, making Dean moan and scream. Then he slows down and moves one hand up to curve over the point where Dean’s neck meets his shoulder. He works himself in and out slowly then, letting the head of his cock drag teasingly over Dean’s prostate, sending a tingling pleasure up his spine that is doing much to break him down into a moaning mess. 

“How does that feel, kitten? Is that enough for my pretty kitty’s greedy little hole?” Oh, shit! Dean’s not exactly sure what’s going on right now but he can’t find it in himself to want it to stop. It’s almost as if Cas looked deep inside of Dean and found all the hidden kinks that he didn’t even know he had. Man, maybe they are perfect for each other. 

“No!” Dean shouts. “No, it isn’t enough. I need it harder, Cas. _Please,_ fuck me harder!” 

“Whatever you need, sweetheart.” Cas lets go of Dean’s other hip and slips both of his hands underneath Dean’s armpits so that he can grasp the front of his shoulders. He uses the leverage to pound into Dean, harder and harder while he nips and licks and sucks on Dean’s neck and shoulders. “How’s that? Is that hard enough for you, sweetheart? You gonna come on my cock? You gonna fill those pretty panties up with your sweet come?”

“ _Fuck…_ yes, yes, yes! Fuck me, Cas!” The friction of the satin panties against his throbbing cock is just enough to send him over the edge. “I’m gunna- _oh, fuuuck, Cas…_ I’m coming!” 

“Oh, fuck…” Dean can feel Cas’s cock get even harder as his orgasm causes his ass to clench tightly around him. “Oh, _shit_ , that’s it, kitten. You’re so tight. You milk me so good… Fuck!” Cas shifts his grip so that he’s holding tightly to Dean’s chest as he thrusts in deep and stutters to a stop. The warm flood of Cas’s come fills Dean up in such a perfect way that he wishes that he had a plug so that he could keep it inside once Cas pulls out. 

Cas doesn’t move right away though. He stays where he is, thrusting lazily and nuzzling into the crook of Dean’s neck. They’re both panting lightly, trying desperately to come down while still holding onto the feeling of this moment. It’s perfect, so of course, something was bound to ruin it. 

In the quiet stillness, they hear the basement door opening and two sets of footsteps, followed by two voices, two very familiar voices. 

“He said that it was in the basement, so that’s where I thought he’d be. Can’t imagine what’s taking him so long though.” That’s Jimmy, and Dean cringes, shrinking in on himself as the guilt of what he’s done comes crashing down on him. Cas just tightens his hold, shushing softly in his ear. Maybe he thinks that if they’re quiet, that they won’t be found. The door is partially hidden; Dean supposes there might be a chance… maybe? 

“Well, you know Dean…” That’s Gabriel’s voice. “… maybe he _said_ basement but what he meant was garage? Or attic? Or Cas’s place? Who knows?” 

“ _That dick!_ ” Dean whispers. He makes to move but Cas stops him, keeping his tight hold on Dean’s body. 

“Gabe, don’t be a dick.” Jimmy says, and Dean snorts, but Cas just moves one of his hands so that it covers Dean’s mouth. 

“Well, I don’t see him anywhere, but there are a couple of doors. Maybe there’s a sub-basement or something? Why don’t you take that one and I’ll check out this one. It’ll be an adventure!” says Gabriel.

“All right,” Jimmy says, and Dean can’t tell if one of them is closer. Both voices sound like they’re coming from the middle of the room. 

They hear footsteps getting closer and Dean is in full-on panic mode now. There’s no getting out of it this time. They’re going to be caught with Cas’s dick still snug in Dean’s ass. If ever God were going to smite him down, now would be the perfect time. 

The cellar door swings wide open but Dean can’t bear to look – he simply drops his head on his arms and prepares to accept his fate. 

“Well! Looky what I found, Jimmy!” Dean hears a slight scraping noise and then the door is closed again, the footsteps retreating just as they’d come.

“All I found was a bathroom. What did you find, Gabe?” Jimmy asks, slight boredom apparent in his voice. 

“Why, the wine, of course! What else could I have possibly found?” 

“Oh. Well, good. But then where is Dean, I wonder?” Dean is still holding his breath, not trusting that Gabriel isn’t just waiting for the perfect opportunity to bring Jimmy back over to the cellar and reveal their hiding place. 

“Where indeed, Jimmy. Where indeed. He probably just got caught up entertaining one of his guests. Why don’t we go upstairs and look for him?” 

“Yeah, ok. But first let’s look for a wine opener.” 

“Whatever you want, baby brother. Whatever you want.” 

The voices cease and Dean hears the basement door close again. They’re wrapped in silence once more, only the sound of their quiet breathing filling the small space. It smells strongly of sex – Dean and Cas and the passion that they shared here. It’s a smell that Dean loves – a pungent reminder that, for a little while at least, he was happy. Loved and treasured, and cared for like no other. Content. 

How will he ever be able to let that go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 19 will pick up right where chapter 18 left off, so the party will be ongoing. Just in case you were wondering.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll warn you all now, this chapter gets kind of cracky. I've got to admit though, I'm a little in love with it, so I hope you all like it too. And if you don't, well, the situation that results toward the end is temporary so bear with me. As I've said it before, so I'll say it again... fear not, for everyone will be happy in the end. (Come on, that's not ominous at all!) 
> 
> Also a quick, sort of spoilery note... there are three karaoke songs sung in this chapter. The lyrics are in the story but I'll put the song titles and artists in the end notes in case you need them.

“Well, that was close.” Castiel takes his hand away from Dean’s mouth and kisses him lightly on the back of his neck before easing himself out of and away from Dean’s body. He takes only a moment to tuck himself back into his pants and then peeks his head out the door to make sure that the basement really is deserted besides the two of them. “I told you that Gabriel wouldn’t say anything.”

Closing the door and looking back into the small space, Castiel notices that Dean has yet to move from his position, his face still hidden on his folded forearms. “Dean?” Castiel approaches him tentatively. The enthusiastic sex, coupled with the near-miss of being found out by Jimmy has Castiel high on adrenaline, but he’s not sure how Dean is feeling. “Are you ok?” 

A light touch to his shoulder causes Dean to flinch and hunch in on himself even more, which isn’t a very good sign at all. “Dean, please, talk to me.” 

He takes a deep breath and straightens up but still doesn’t turn around to face Castiel. “What do you want me to say, Cas?” 

Castiel takes a moment to think about that while he watches Dean bend over to pull up his pants. He cringes when he does so and Castiel assumes that it’s because the movement accentuates the uncomfortable wetness that he must be feeling in those gorgeous red satin panties. 

“Here,” Castiel says, taking a travel pack of tissues out of his coat pocket and handing it to Dean. It won’t completely take away the tacky, wet feeling but it should at least help. Dean takes the offer and goes about cleaning himself up the best he can. He works in silence, putting his shirt and coat back on when he’s done, still not looking at Castiel as he quickly does up the buttons and tucks everything back in. 

He takes one more deep breath before finally turning around. His green eyes are clear but there’s a haunted look in them. Castiel had thought that Dean would be able to overcome his feelings of guilt and obligation in order to end things with Jimmy and commit himself completely to Castiel, but he can see Dean thinking carefully how to word what he’s going to say and that can’t end well for either of them. So he decides to take an offensive position and stop Dean before he says something that neither one of them want to hear. 

“Don’t. Dean, don’t. You can’t stay with him, not when you feel this strongly for me. Not when we feel this strongly for each other.” Dean looks down, breaking eye contact, but Castiel can tell that it’s because he knows that what Castiel says is true, not because he doesn’t agree with him. So he steps in close, running a hand through Dean’s hair and cupping his jaw, gently coaxing him to look back up. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

Suddenly, Dean jerks his head up and away and stares at Castiel incredulously. “Don’t do this to you?! What about what I’m doing to him?! Just last night I promised him-“ Dean cuts himself off and tries to run both hands through his hair. They get caught on the horn clips though and Dean yanks them off and throws them on the ground to join the tail that he hadn’t put back on. “Fuck! I need to go find him.” 

Castiel lets him pass but quickly follows, trying desperately to think of something to say to get him to stop. “Dean, wait!” He grabs Dean’s hand at the foot of the stairs, stopping him from going any further. 

“Cas, let me go. I need to talk to him.” Castiel lets go but Dean doesn’t move right away. 

“What are you going to say to him? The truth? Do you think he’s just going to keep forgiving you? Do you think that he should?” Dean glares at him for that, which yeah, he admits that’s probably warranted. “Dean, please, at least think about what you really want before you go and throw yourself at his feet. You deserve to be happy too.” 

Dean gives a terse nod and Castiel thinks that’s probably about the best he can expect right now so he gives back a hopeful smile before following Dean up the stairs and out the door. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Cas!” Dean turns around to see Cas being engulfed by five and a half feet of effervescent red-head, wrapped up in a fluffy, gauzy sea-green dress and wearing a golden diadem with a stylized ‘OZ’ spelled out on her forehead, gaudy green and gold floofy things over each ear. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too, Charlie. But if you’ll excuse-“

“Cas! Cas, come here! I want you to meet my girlfriend, Dorothy. Dorothy, this is Cas.” She turns and whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s the one I was telling you about.” It’s clear that Charlie has had just enough to drink to make her giggly and completely unaware of how loud she speaks, or what she says out loud for that matter. Dean recognizes Dorothy from the bar, though this time she’s wearing a long-sleeved pink and white striped dress and sparkly red shoes, her hair in two braids resting on her shoulders and a stuffed chicken under one arm. 

Whatever Dorothy or Cas may say is lost on Dean as someone clamps him painfully on the shoulder to get his attention elsewhere. Turning around to give the intruder a piece of his mind, the words freeze on his lips as his gaze is met by a golden glare so powerful that Dean is surprised that he isn’t burnt to a crisp at a mere look. 

“Dean-o! Walk with me, talk with me.” He slides his strong grip around Dean’s shoulders and guides him away from the trio. Dean throws one last searching look over his shoulder but he sees that Cas is being led away as well – there’s no saving either of them now. “So… just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Umm…” Dean looks around but no one seems close enough to hear them. “What do you mean?” He looks around again, this time to try to locate Jimmy in the crowd, but he doesn’t see him. “Hey, do you know where Jimmy went?” 

Gabriel gets his attention by grabbing him by the lapels and shoving him up against the brick wall of the house, around the corner from prying eyes. “You think I’m going to let you anywhere near him?! I don’t know what the fuck Cas is doing with someone like you, but at least he knows what he’s getting himself into. Jimmy, on the other hand, doesn’t deserve an asshole like you cheating on him and then lying about it!” 

“Jimmy knows about Cas.” Gabriel loosens his grip as he searches Dean’s face for the truth in his statement. He almost looks convinced but then he tightens up again and shoves Dean back against the brick once more. 

“He sure as hell didn’t know where you were or what you were doing a few minutes ago!” 

“I know,” Dean says, trying to sound contrite. “That’s why I need to find him. I need to tell him what happened and-“

“Fuck no! You think you can just clear your conscience at the cost of my brother’s poor, trusting heart?” Dean knows that Gabriel makes a good point – Dean’s the one that fucked up, again – Jimmy shouldn’t have to be the one to pay for that. But… 

“Then what am I supposed to do?! Cas wants me to leave Jimmy and be with him. Jimmy knows what’s going on between me and Cas but he wants me to cease all contact with Cas and stay with him instead. I don’t want to hurt either one of them but I can’t make them both happy, so tell me… what am I supposed to do?!” 

Gabriel lets go of Dean’s jacket and takes a step back, giving Dean a considering look. Dean knows that he must look pretty desperate but he really can’t bring himself to care. He is desperate – desperate for someone to make his decisions for him. It’s never happened before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything… right? 

“Well, I could tell you that I think you should stay away from both of them, but I suppose that’s probably a bit too much to hope for. I guess I’d say-“ Gabriel jerks his head at the sound of someone speaking through a microphone in the backyard. He rounds the corner to see who’s talking and Dean follows, recognizing Charlie as the one speaking. 

“-made him sing, but he picked the song! So, without further ado… our first karaoke singer of the night… Castiel!” Cas and Charlie are standing up on the balcony, looking out over the backyard as the music starts to play and Dean gets a really bad feeling about this. Looking over at Gabriel, his fears aren’t quelled at all as the man seems to recognize the song, or maybe just the clusterfuck nature of the situation, and he drops his head back and sighs, letting out an almighty sigh. 

Looking back up at the balcony, Dean watches as Cas begins to sing (he’s not that bad, really). He does internally cringe at his song choice though – the familiar words making Dean’s face heat up despite himself. 

_Jessie is a friend_  
_Yeah I know he’s been a good friend of mine_  
_But lately something’s changed that ain’t hard to define_  
_Jessie’s got himself a girl and I want to make her mine_

Dean supposes that it could have been worse, though he’s not exactly sure how at this point. 

_And she’s watching him with those eyes_  
_And she’s loving him with that body, I just know it_  
_Yeah, and he’s holding her in his arms late, late at night_

Looking through the crowd once more, Dean finally sees Jimmy. He’s standing in the doorway to the garage, arms folded across his chest as he glares daggers at his twin up on the balcony. 

_You know_  
_I wish that I had Jessie’s girl_  
_I wish that I had Jessie’s girl_  
_Where can I find a woman like that_

“He’s got balls, I’ll give him that much.” Dean turns to see that Damon has joined their little viewing party, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. “A bit on the nose though, don’t you think?”

“Well, Cas has never really been one for subtlety. The only thing that surprises me is that he isn’t singing ‘Jimmy’ instead of ‘Jessie’ in order to make it even more unambiguous.” Dean’s pretty sure that they don’t need him here for this particular conversation so he looks around again, trying to decide the best place to beat a hasty retreat, but when he inadvertently locks eyes with Jimmy, he knows that it’s too late. His furious boyfriend is in the process of stalking over toward him, every head in the crowd now swiveling back and forth between the twins. “Ok, then… I guess he didn’t need to change the name after all – looks like Jimmy knows exactly who Cas is singing about.” 

_I play along with the charade_  
_There doesn’t seem to be a reason to change_  
_You know, I feel so dirty when they start talking cute_  
_I wanna tell her that I love her_  
_But the point is probably moot_

_’Cause she’s watching him with those eyes_  
_And she’s loving him with that body, I just know it_  
_And he’s holding her in his arms late, late at night_

_You know_  
_I wish that I had Jessie’s girl_  
_I wish that I had Jessie’s girl_  
_Where can I find a woman like that_

“Gabe, go away. I need to talk to Dean… _alone_.” Jimmy’s lost the halo at some point and its lack is somehow only helping to emphasize the stormy ‘angel of the lord’ look he’s got going on right now. Dean had thought that Cas was the only one of the two of them able to pull that off but apparently he had been wrong. 

“You sure, Jimmy? I’d be more than happy to help you teach Dean a much-needed lesson.” Jimmy releases Dean from his look of heavenly wrath by turning his attention to Gabriel instead, and Dean lets go of a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer.” Then looking back to Dean he adds, “I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” Gabriel must leave without answering because Dean doesn’t hear anything more from him. Though he couldn’t check if he wanted to – that steely-blue gaze is being directed at him again and Dean is helpless to look away. “Where have you been?”

Swallowing past the almost insurmountable lump in his throat, Dean does his best to summon the courage to be honest with Jimmy without being unnecessarily hurtful. “I was with Cas. You knew that I was going to talk to him.” 

“Oh?” Jimmy raises one dark brow, fixing Dean with a disbelieving look. “’Talk to him’ was it? And what exactly did you say to him, pray tell, that required you to take off at least half of your costume?” Dean pales, suddenly remembering the tail and horns that he’d left on the cellar floor. Then he lets out a rush of air as Jimmy slaps him on the chest to emphasize his next words. “You could have at least had the decency to do your shirt buttons up right. What the fuck, Dean?” 

Looking down, Dean realizes that yeah, his buttons are a bit askew and he buttons up his suit coat to try to hide it – it’s too late to escape Jimmy’s notice but it makes Dean feel a little less exposed anyway. “I tried to tell him, Jimmy, I did.” 

_And I’m looking in the mirror all the time_  
_Wondering what she don’t see in me_  
_I’ve been funny, I’ve been cool with the lines_  
_Ain’t that the way love’s supposed to be_

“Let me guess, you opened your mouth to speak and his dick just happened to fall into it?” Dean sputters as he tries to think of a response to that, but Jimmy continues before he can even think of a single word to say. “And please don’t try to tell me that he forced himself on you because my brother may be many things, but that’s not one of them.”

“Jesus, Jimmy, no! Of course not!” Dean takes a deep breath and tries to collect his thoughts into some semblance of coherency. “I just don’t think I can do it.”

“Do what? Keep Cas out of your pants long enough to construct a complete sentence?” Dean tries to glare but Jimmy’s look of righteous fury sure is something to contend with so instead he just sighs and slumps his shoulders in defeat. 

“I don’t think I can just stop seeing him. I’m sorry, Jimmy. You deserve so much better.” The last lines of the song punctuate Dean’s words and Jimmy looks toward the balcony with a mixture of hurt and hatred that Dean sincerely hopes he’ll never have to see on that face again. 

_I wish that I had Jessie’s girl_  
_I wish that I had Jessie’s girl_  
_I want, I want Jessie’s girl_

The audience gives Cas their applause and Jimmy turns back to look at Dean. All at once, Dean sees the fight go out of him, but he’s holding onto something – denial, tenacity, oh God, maybe that’s hope – because while he appears subdued, he looks neither defeated nor resigned. 

“Look, you can just try again, right? But this time I’ll be there with you so he can’t trick you into agreeing to something that you don’t want, ok?” 

“Jimmy, it’s not-“

“Dean! Jimmy! Hey guys!” Dean is interrupted by a very drunk Sam who drapes his arms heavily around both men’s shoulders and bestows them with his biggest, most magnanimous grin. “Watcha’ doin’? Oh, hey! Did you hear Cas singin’?” Dean’s never been more irritated by Sam’s interrupting moose act than he is at this moment. “Jimmy, did you know that Cas could sing? Hey, does that mean you can sing too?” 

Jimmy grants Sam a very fake smile but doesn’t respond, visibly gritting his teeth the whole while. Though Sam’s drunk ass obviously can’t tell because he just smiles back, a very goofy look making him look even more ridiculous than his straw hat and red wig already do. 

“Ok, Captain Morgan, leave the nice angel alone now.” He drags Sam’s leaden arm off of Jimmy’s shoulders and turns him around to prop him up against the corner of the building. When he turns back around Jimmy is nowhere in sight so he just sighs and turns his attention back to his boozy brother. “Who the hell are you supposed to be anyway? And where is Sarah? I thought she was watching you, you giant lush.” 

“I’m Van Gogh,” he says haughtily, pronouncing the name all fancy-like and attempting to pull himself up to his full height, only to be brought back down to Dean’s level as his foot slips and he falls back against the brick wall again. 

“Oh yeah? Well then why do you still have two ears, huh smarty pants?” Sam shoots his hands up to cover both of his totally normal ears, seemingly surprised to find them exactly where he left them. 

“Oh, well I’m the Van Gogh from that Doctor Who episode. He still had both ears at that time. Sarah is Amy Pond… Sarah! Tell Dean that you’re Amy Pond.” Dean turns his attention behind him to where Sarah is walking up to them with two bottles of water, an indulgent smile on her beautiful face. She has a long red wig covering her normally dark brown hair and she’s dressed in a red sweater and a short black mini-skirt with a blue wool coat and long red scarf. She’s gorgeous. 

“Dean, I’m Amy Pond.” Sarah twists off the cap from one of the bottles and hands it to Sam saying, “Drink up, Vinny.” Sam does as he’s told, pulling Sarah into his side and keeping her close. Dean can’t help but smile at the sight – his love life may be in complete upheaval but at least Sam’s seems to be going well, and he’s genuinely happy for his brother.

Sarah looks at Dean concernedly though. She seems completely sober so she probably didn’t miss Cas’s singing or Jimmy’s reaction to it. Her look quickly turns to one of wide-eyed worry though when they hear Charlie’s voice over the microphone again. “Apparently not one to be outdone by his brother, our next singer is Jimmy!” 

“Shit.” Dean closes his eyes and takes yet another deep breath, wondering what fresh Hell is about to befall him. 

_Every breath you take and every move you make_  
_Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you_  
_Every single day and every word you say_  
_Every game you play, every night you stay, I’ll be watching you_

“Hey! Jimmy _can_ sing too!” Sam shouts, completely oblivious to the ‘holy shit, this cannot end well’ look that passes between Dean and Sarah. Sam then proceeds to sing along (badly) to Jimmy’s rendition, his head bobbing sedately along to the slow-paced song.

_Oh, can’t you see… you belong to me_  
_How my poor heart aches with every step you take_  
_Every move you make, every vow you break_  
_Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I’ll be watching you_

And if he thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, Cas chooses that exact moment to walk up and join their group, deliberately glancing up at Jimmy and then back to give Dean a pointed look, all but ignoring Sam and Sarah. 

_Since you’ve gone I’ve been lost without a trace_  
_I dream at night, I can only see your face_  
_I look around but it’s you I can’t replace_  
_I feel so cold and I long for your embrace_  
_I keep crying, “Baby, baby, please”_

“So I take it that talking with him didn’t go well,” Cas says, the textbook definition of understatement. 

“You think?” Dean responds, letting his frustration take the reins. “Though it probably would have gone a bit better without your little performance there to rile him up!” 

“Yes, I suppose antagonizing him probably wasn’t the best course of action on my part.” Dean can’t even respond to that. Instead he simply gives Cas his best expression of incredulity that he can possibly muster before throwing his hands up in the air and walking away in a huff. He needs a drink. He can’t believe that he’s dealing with this shit stone-cold sober. 

He grabs a beer from the cooler and twists off the bottle cap, downing half of it in one go. 

_Oh, can’t you see… you belong to me_  
_How my poor heart aches with every step you take_  
_Every move you make and every vow you break_  
_Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I’ll be watching you_  
_Ever move you make, every step you take, I’ll be watching you_

When he lowers the bottle, Gabriel comes into his line of sight some fifteen feet away and Dean watches as he points two fingers at his own eyes and then turns them toward Dean in a menacing fashion. Like Jimmy’s unsubtle musical threat wasn’t enough, now Dean has to deal with Gabe’s (actually much scarier) threat too. Beer is not going to be strong enough, he thinks, knocking back the rest of the bottle before going in search of whiskey and an at least somewhat secluded place in which to drink it. 

He passes through the crowd trying his best to avoid anyone by the name of Novak and slips down the narrow walkway that leads to the front of the house, bent on Bobby’s floor with its relative peace. 

He sees trick-or-treaters on his way over the small lawn and passes by two Elsas and a Captain America on his way up the front steps. Bobby is sitting on a folding chair with a bowl of candy on a small table next to him when Dean gets to the top of the porch.

“Trick-or-treat!” He says, trying to disguise his host of current issues with an over-compensating shit-eating grin. 

“What happened?” Bobby asks, not at all fooled by Dean’s act. 

“Nothing happened. I just need a break. Sam’s drunk off his ass and I’m not nearly drunk enough to deal with him,” he prevaricates. Bobby looks at him skeptically so he adds, “Don’t worry, Sarah’s taking care of him. I just needed a moment away, ok? And whiskey. Got any whiskey?” he adds hopefully. 

“You know where it is,” is all Bobby says, getting up to move his chair so that Dean can pass through the door and into the house. 

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean says, getting only a grunt in response. He closes the door behind him and heads strait for the library, stopping only momentarily to grab a glass from the kitchen. When he reaches the library he pulls a bottle out of the bottom drawer of the desk and fills the glass half full before proceeding to take several large swallows. He only cringes slightly, already inured to the strong burn of the cheap liquor. 

He knows that he should be taking this time to think about what he should do regarding the twins, but he can’t bring himself to do anything but lean his head back in the chair and enjoy the relative silence (he can still hear the muffled sounds of the party going on outside) and the slow cloud of fuzziness that’s slowly creeping over him from the alcohol. 

He’s not sure how long he sits there but regardless, it’s way too soon that he’s startled upright by Bobby’s gruff voice. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest and giving Dean a glare that he’s sure is warranted but still makes him feel defensive.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am. Care to join me?” Dean removes the desk’s resident glass from the drawer and holds it up in question, to which Bobby simply shakes his head. Replacing the glass, Dean tops off his own drink saying, “Your loss.” 

“So, I’ve got an angel and a doctor waiting outside my front door asking for you. You wouldn’t know anything about that now would you, Dean?" Dean takes another drink from his glass and scrunches up his face – though at the taste or at Bobby’s question, he’s not even sure. 

“I might,” he answers. He’s not drunk, not yet, but he is feeling it – the warm fuzziness helping to make all his troubles seem much less important and much more manageable at the moment. 

“What the hell is going on, Dean? Those boys look about ready to kill each other.” Dean sighs, wondering if they’ll just go away if he keeps them waiting long enough. It could happen, right? “Are you listening to me, boy? What do you want me to tell them?” 

“I guess I should talk to them.” Dean makes to stand but immediately falls back in the chair as a dizzy spell hits him suddenly; maybe he is drunker than he thought? 

“Just stay where you are. I’ll bring them to you.” He gives Dean one more worried look, to which Dean merely gives him a thumbs up, and what he hopes is a reassuring smile. 

When Bobby is finally gone, Dean lets his forehead fall to the desk with a loud _thunk_. He leaves it there, wishing fervently that he was somewhere else right now – anywhere else would be fine with him. 

“Dean,” he hears in stereo, followed by Bobby’s more stern, “No bloodshed on my books,” before Dean finally looks up to see twin pairs of blue eyes staring at him, the heavy wooden door closing behind them and leaving Dean alone with two identical simmering brunettes. 

“Dean,” Jimmy begins, walking up to the desk and slapping one hand down before pointing at Cas with the other. “Tell, _Castiel_ that you’re not going to see him anymore and that he needs to _back off_.” 

“Dean,” Cas says, much more sweetly, but with no less menace “Tell _Jimmy_ that you _don’t want him_ anymore… that you want to be with me instead.” 

Dean can see where Bobby’s rule of ‘no bloodshed on my books’ might be necessary. The twins seem ostensibly to be speaking to Dean but they’re looking at each other, appearing about two seconds away from intending actual bodily harm. 

Dean was being truthful when he told Gabriel that he didn’t want to hurt either one of them though and with that thought in mind, drunk Dean comes up with what he thinks is a perfectly reasonable compromise. So he leans back in the chair again and puts his feet up on the desk, crossing one ankle over the other and taking a small sip from his glass. 

“Why don’t the two of you decide?” He says, and yeah, this is the perfect way to go about this. The twins will have to come to a decision on their own and Dean won’t have to hurt either one of them – perfect! 

“What?!” Jimmy says, at the same time Cas says, “Ok.” 

Jimmy looks at Cas incredulously and says, “Well if I’m deciding, I’m going to choose me, of course. Unless you’re choosing me as well, I don’t see how this is going to work.”

“Obviously that won’t work. What I propose is this… a trial period.” Jimmy cocks his head, giving Cas his full attention. “Dean will continue seeing both of us – with our full knowledge, and not on the same days, of course – and after a certain amount of time he’ll make his choice. He’s obviously not ready to choose right now – I just think he needs more time.”

“What?!” Dean says, at the same time as Jimmy says, “Ok.” 

Dean lets his feet fall to the floor and sits up straight, wondering if both twins have lost their damn minds and cursing himself for how his perfect plan has backfired. “How can either of you be ok with this?”

“Well,” Jimmy says, “unless you’re prepared to choose me right now…” He waits for Dean to either confirm or deny, neither of which his fuzzy mind can manage to do right at this moment, before continuing, “Then this is my only option.” 

“Me too,” Cas agrees, and fuck Dean’s life, he doesn’t know if this is a good thing or just delaying the inevitable crash and burn that Sam predicted all those weeks ago – fuck Sam and his habit of being right all the fucking time. 

“Ok…” Dean says tentatively. “How exactly is this going to work?” 

The twins look at each other and Jimmy says, “I want Mondays and Tuesdays.”

To which Cas responds, “Good, I want Wednesdays and Thursdays anyway.” Jimmy narrows his eyes at that but Cas just continues with, “We should probably alternate Fridays and Saturdays – it’s only fair.” 

Jimmy nods in agreement and says, “What about Sundays?”

“Sunday is my day off,” Dean hears himself say, still dazed that the twins are calmly arranging his fucking schedule, like some messed up kind of custody agreement. Seriously, how strong was that whiskey? 

“That’s acceptable,” Cas says, Jimmy nodding right along with him. “Who gets him tonight?” They turn identical questioning looks at Dean and it’s officially reached the point of ‘too much.’ 

“Nobody _gets me_ tonight. The only thing on my agenda for tonight is drinking, and a lot of it. So if you don’t mind…” Dean stands up, swaying only slightly before rounding the desk and pushing past both men, picking up the half-empty bottle and leaving the library, heading out the back of the house instead of the front. 

The twins follow him but he spins around when he reaches the staircase, planting one hand on each of their chests (one somewhat hindered by the bottle) and stopping them from going any further. “You two go that way,” he points to the flight that leads down and out to the back yard. “And I’ll go this way,” he says, pointing at the flight leading up. “You both had your turn, now I’ve got some singing to do.” 

The brothers look at each other before looking back at Dean skeptically, but they decide not to push, instead turning around to head down and out. Dean takes a swig straight from the bottle and heads up the stairs, intent on finding Charlie and her damned karaoke machine. 

“Ok, Red, point me toward the tunes!” Dean says as he stumbles out onto the porch, catching himself on the bannister and just barely managing to keep hold of the bottle. Straightening up he takes another drink to congratulate himself on his excellent reflexes despite his advanced level of inebriation. 

“Are you ok, Dean?” Charlie asks. Dean thinks that she sounds more sober than she had earlier – she’s more sober than him in any case. “Do you need to sit down or something?”

“Sit down?! Hell no! I want to sing!” She tries to pry the bottle from his hand but he persists in his hold, taking another small sip as he grabs the microphone from some surprised party guest. Who is it? Dean has no fucking idea. Probably someone Sam invited. 

He puts the bottle down on the table and grabs the book with all the song titles, squinting his eyes at the very, very small (and now that he notices, blurry) type. It only takes a couple of pages before he finds something that will work and he points imperiously at the page, loudly getting Charlie’s attention. “This one, my Queen! This is the song that I will sing!” 

“Oookaaay…” Charlie says, quickly going to work doing whatever it is she needs to do to get the music to play. 

Dean walks up to the railing of the balcony and looks down on the party guests, almost immediately finding Jimmy and Cas standing in a group with Gabriel, Damon, Sam, and Sarah. Someone has started the fire going in the pit and the flames illuminate the group with a warm glow, making Dean think of his own prediction about tonight – It’s some kind of Hell, for sure, but some of his favorite people are down there so Hell can’t be all that bad, can it? 

Shaking that disturbing thought away he tries to focus on the mic in his hand, tapping the top to make sure that it’s working so that he’ll be heard above the noise of conversation. The tapping works, causing some people to flinch at the loud, _thump, thump, thump_ his hand makes. 

“Ok, everyone… if you don’t know me, I’m Dean,” he pauses for the loud woops and catcalls that come from people in the crowd. It makes him smile at least, which is good, he thinks. “Ok, ok… shush, shush, now. Hold your applause until the end, please.” That gets some laughs which makes Dean smile even more. “Now I’m going to sing a song that I’d like to dedicate to- No, you know what? They know who they are. Hit it, Charlie!” 

The twangy sound of the guitar and the clapping percussive beat play for only a few moments before Dean starts to sing.

_Well, I don’t know why I came here tonight_  
_I got the feeling that something ain’t right_  
_I’m so scared in case I fall off my chair,_  
_And I’m wondering how I’ll get down those stairs_

Pointing toward the staircase gets a few more laughs which just buoys Dean’s drunken spirit even more.

_Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,_  
_Here I am, stuck in the middle with you_

He hears a couple of voices echo his line and turns to see Charlie and Dorothy sharing another mic and singing backup for him – awesome. 

_Yes, I’m stuck in the middle with you,_  
_And I’m wondering what it is I should do_  
_It’s so hard to keep this smile from my face,_  
_Losing control, yeah I’m all over the place_  
_Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,_  
_Here I am, stuck in the middle with you_

Dean takes a very, very quick drink before continuing his song.

_Well, you started off with nothing,_  
_And you’re proud that you’re a self-made man_  
_And your friends they all come crawling,_  
_Slap you on the back and say,_  
_Please… please…_

Most of the audience has started singing and clapping along at this point so Dean just goes with it, dancing around the balcony and trying not to stumble – he’s pretty successful, at least he hasn’t landed on his ass yet.

_Trying to make some sense of it all,_  
_But I can see it makes no sense at all_  
_Is it cool to go to sleep on the floor?_  
_‘Case I don’t think that I can take anymore_  
_Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,_  
_Here I am, stuck in the middle with you_

In what in retrospect will probably be a very bad idea indeed, Dean then jumps up onto a chair that’s sitting next to the railing, putting said railing at knee-level while he proceeds with his song. 

_And you started off with nothing,_  
_And you’re proud that you’re a self-made man_  
_And your friends they all come crawling,_  
_Slap you on the back and say,_  
_Please… please…_

He sways unsteadily on the slanted surface and a chorus of startled gasps with a few shouted, “ _Dean!_ ”s drift up to him as he regains his precarious balance. Then Charlie and Dorothy each grab one of his arms and forcefully yank him back down to the relative safety of the balcony floor, helping him to keep upright when he stumbles. When he’s mostly stable he waves them off and they go back to their position as backup singer, though quite a bit closer to him than they were before. 

_Yeah, I don’t know why I came here tonight_  
_I got the feeling that something ain’t right_  
_I’m so scared in case I fall off my chair,_  
_And I’m wondering how I’ll get down those stairs_  
_Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,_  
_Here I am, stuck in the middle with you_

Dean looks over to the doorway to see Cas and Jimmy pushing past each other to get out onto the balcony, presumably to keep Dean from inadvertently killing himself, he supposes. Though why they look so worried when Dean is perfectly fine, he has no idea. 

“Hey! It’s my boys!” he shouts into the mic, with what’s probably a supremely goofy smile on his face before he finishes his crowd-pleasing song.

_Yes, I’m stuck in the middle with you_  
_Stuck in the middle with you_  
_Here I am, stuck in the middle with you_

He bows deeply to thunderous applause and then definitely loses his balance on the way back up. Luckily the twins are there to catch him though – identical strong hands holding onto each of his arms as he looks back and forth between the two of them. 

“I think I need another drink,” is the last thing that he remembers saying before the rest of the night passes by in various shades of blur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas sings [Jessie's Girl](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYkbTyHXwbs) by Rick Springfield  
> Jimmy sings [Every Breath You Take](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMOGaugKpzs) by The Police  
> Dean sings [Stuck in the Middle With You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DohRa9lsx0Q) by Steelers Wheel
> 
> I actually tried to space the text so that you can listen to the songs in the background while you read. It's kind of fun.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I know, this chapter is pretty short and not all that interesting. But I really just wanted to get something posted. 
> 
> There is some humor, I think, so I guess it's got that going for it. And I'll try to get more written and post another, more interesting chapter soon. 
> 
> I had this idea for another work that just wouldn't be silenced so I had to get started on that before my muse would let me get back to focusing on this, so I apologize for my shitty posting schedule (schedule? what schedule?). I know, I know... my work ethic is spotty at best. Just rest assured that I will see everything through. Just, you know, in time. My own sweet fucking time, apparently, but in time nonetheless. 
> 
> Thanks again for those of you who have stuck with me. I love you all like Cas loves bees. Kisses, my darlings. ♥

“Good, you’re up,” Dean hears, just as he feels a pillow smack him right in the kisser. 

“Am not,” he protests, only to then get a second pillow directly in the crotch. 

“Ow! Charlie! What the Hell?!” He rolls over in order to protect the goods, but unfortunately he does so without opening his eyes and instead ends up on the floor. When he does finally lift his lids (that incidentally feel like they’ve been magically transformed into sandpaper and then super-glued shut) he looks up into the face of a very annoyed red-head, who appears to now be armed with a ringing cell phone. 

“Your boyfriend is calling. Well, one of your boyfriends is calling. And he’s _been_ calling for like, two hours now. Are you going to answer or should I just tell him to cram it?”

_I am way too fucking hungover for this,_ Dean thinks, as he grabs the ringing phone out of her hand. It goes to voicemail just as he takes it, and then he looks through bleary eyes to see that he has seventeen missed calls, six voicemails, and ten text messages… all from Cas. 

Honestly, he’s kind of surprised. Not that Cas has been frantically trying to get ahold of him, but that Jimmy hasn’t. Glancing again at the phone to look at the time tells him exactly why that might be though – It’s only ten a.m., Jimmy is probably still asleep.

“Call him back, Dean. Even if it’s just to tell him to go to Hell. The constant pestering is annoying. And when you’re done doing that, come out to the kitchen. Sarah and I made breakfast.” 

Dean grunts in acknowledgement and Charlie spins around and goes – leaving just as abruptly as she had arrived. Dean takes a deep breath and then dry heaves. The smell in his general vicinity is certainly doing his icky stomach no favors. Turning his phone to vibrate only, he then places it on the night stand – he’ll call Cas back after he returns to feeling somewhat human. 

It takes him several tries, but eventually he makes it to his feet, weak-kneed and wobbly as a newborn foal. He decides that a shower and a piss are next on the agenda (though not necessarily in that order), with the distinct possibility of more stomach revolt as well. So he gathers some comfortable clothes (ones that don’t smell like a sweaty night spent at a distillery), snatches his phone off the nightstand, and heads to the bathroom.

 

Half an hour later – washed, dried, and with both stomach and bladder emptied, Dean stumbles out to the kitchen to find Charlie and Sarah sipping coffee and chatting companionably. Both girls are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and _not_ looking like they spent a hard night partying and drinking their fucked-up relationship problems away… Oh wait, that’s right – it was Dean, and not Charlie or Sarah, who did that.

He kinda-sorta hates them right now, though he knows that he really has no right. After all, it’s not _their_ fault that he’s a co-dependent martyr-type with self-destructive tendencies and a propensity for utilizing unhealthy coping mechanisms… That’s right, _Sam_ Dean is perfectly aware of just how fucked up he is _without_ you having to tell him. 

“So,” he begins, plunking himself down between them at the table. “On a scale of one to Hasselhoff, just how bad was I last night?” Charlie pushes a steaming cup of coffee beneath his nose and he really could kiss the woman – right on her ruby-red lips. But he doesn’t think that she would appreciate that very much, so instead he mutters, “Bless you, my queen,” and takes a fortifying sip of the fragrant brew. 

“How bad were you?” she asks, repeating his question. “Do you mean before or after you almost took a header off the balcony while describing loudly, through song, just exactly how ensconced in a semi-incestuous Novak love triangle you actually are?” Charlie gives him a pointed look and Dean just groans and drops his head down to the Formica with a muted _thunk_. 

“Oh, now that part wasn’t _so_ bad,” Sarah soothes. “It was kind of entertaining actually.” Dean turns his head and peeks up at her, but the cringing look on her face doesn’t bode well for her next statement. “I think the worst part was probably when you started walking around through the crowd with Cas and Jimmy trailing behind you, introducing them to everyone as your ‘baby-daddy’ and your ‘sugar-daddy’ respectively, and only getting their names right roughly half the time.”

“Fuck a duck!” Dean shouts, the sound somewhat muffled by his hands as they cover the beet-red misery that is his facial expression. Dropping his cover, Dean then implores of his best friend, “Why, Charlie?! Why would you let me do something like that?!” 

“Hey, I tried to stop you, Dean. But you were having none of it. Besides, it was kind of hard to get past your Doublemint security detail. It finally took Bobby threatening to shoot their balls off if they didn’t back off and let us get you up to bed for them to loosen their hold on you. You wanted them to stay, and they weren’t inclined to deny you anything.” Shit. Bobby just might kill him after last night. 

“So eventually Bobby says that he’s going into the house to get his shotgun and that they had both better be gone by the time he gets back, or they’ll have to decide whether or not they want identical buckshot patterns on their identical dicks.” Oh God, Bobby is definitely going to kill him. 

“Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, or at least that retreat was the better part of not getting their junk shot off, Cas and Jimmy left you to the tender care of Sarah, Dorothy, and yours truly, and high-tailed it out of here as fast as their fancy cars could carry them.” 

“Christ…” If it had happened to anyone other than himself, Dean would probably find the whole situation hilarious, but as it is, “Well, I guess that solves all my problems… After that clusterfuck neither one of them will want to keep seeing me.” 

“Oh, I doubt that, Dean. Besides the incessant calling and messaging that Cas has been doing this morning…” At this point, Dean’s cell phone begins to light up and dance across the table top where he had placed it there between them – ‘Cas calling’ flashing merrily on the screen. 

Dean picks it up like it’s a bomb that might blow up in his face at any moment. “Besides that,” Charlie repeats pointedly, “The two of them were still arguing over the ‘schedule’ for the upcoming weekend while they were beating a hasty retreat. I don’t think you’re shaking either one of them anytime soon… at least not without some considerable effort on your part.” 

Once again he lets the call go to voicemail and then drops the device back down on the table. “What the Hell am I going to do, Charlie?” He asks, a thread of desperation coloring his tone.

“I don’t know, Dean. What the Hell _did_ you do? I mean, how did it get to this point? Well, I suppose I could guess how it got to this point but, how could you _let_ it get to this point? And what exactly is ‘this point’ anyway? I mean, like… both of them?” Dean nods miserably. “At the same time?” she asks, cocking one bright red brow. 

“What?! No!” Though now that he thinks about it… _Not the time, Dean,_ he admonishes himself. “No, Charlie… no. Not at the same time. Jesus!” She simply shrugs, feigning innocence. 

“What?” she says, grinning evilly and glancing conspiratorially at Sarah before addressing him once more. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” And yeah, of course he’s thought about it. Who wouldn’t have thought about it with the two of them looking the way they do? But…

“Charlie,” Dean sighs, running a tired hand down his face. “They can hardly stand being in the same room together lately, so I sincerely doubt that they’d be willing to play nice long enough to get naked together.” 

“Who says that they have to play nice,” Sarah says, sipping daintily on her own cup of coffee. “I’m pretty sure that playing naughty would actually work much better in that kind of situation. Hate sex can be a lot of fun.” And holy Hell, no wonder Sam likes this chick – she’s a firecracker, this one. And speaking of Sam… 

Dean starts to panic internally when he hears a set of heavy footsteps trudging slowly up the staircase. “How much does Sam know of what went on last night?” He asks, looking back and forth between the two women. 

“Not much, I don’t think,” Charlie answers. “He was pretty wasted.”

“Drunk as a sailor on shore leave is what she means,” Sarah adds. “I had to talk him out of getting my name tattooed on his ass. Twice.” Dean nods and sighs in relief. It’s bad enough that Dean had to hear about all the outrageous shit that he did last night; he doesn’t think that he could handle being lectured about it by Sam, too. 

Sam finally reaches the top of the stairs and clomps through the doorway, his hair sticking up all over his head and his eyes half closed. He leans down and gives Sarah a kiss on the cheek and then shuffles, zombie-like over to pour himself a cup of coffee. Then he turns around and leans back against the sink and takes a big gulp, tilting his head back while he swallows with an oddly contemplative look on his face while he does so. 

“I had the weirdest dream last night,” he begins after a moment. “I dreamt that Dean told us that he was pregnant, but that he didn’t know if it was Jimmy or Cas who was the father. But before we could find out, Bobby chased them both off with a shotgun.” He shakes his head and chuckles to himself before drinking another gulp of hot coffee. “Pretty bizarre, right?” 

“Uhhhh…” Charlie and Sarah both laugh a little hysterically but Dean has no idea what to say to that. Luckily he’s saved from having to think of something by another phone call buzzing through on his phone. “Uh, I gotta take this…” he says, standing abruptly and practically running out the door to the balcony. 

When he’s alone his determination falters though. But he figures he’ll have to face the music eventually so he hits ‘accept’ and brings the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey, Cas.”

“ _Dean?! Why haven’t you been answering your phone? Are you alright?_ ”

“I just woke up. And yeah, I’m fine.” Well, fine may be overstating things just a smidge. 

“ _Are you sure? Because last night-_ “

“Last night was… I don’t really know what last night was except to say that it was pretty fucked up. Charlie told me all about my adventures in Whiskeyland, Cas, and I’ve gotta say, you sure seem especially insistent this morning for a guy who’s calling to dump someone. But I suppose you just wanted to get it done and out of the way, right? Though I guess I should feel honored or something… Jimmy didn’t even bother to call.” 

“ _Dean…_ ”

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean looks down from the balcony and surveys the destruction of his back yard. The karaoke machine is gone but there are plastic cups and beer bottles all over the place. It looks like most of the paper plates made it into the trash, or were maybe fed into the fire in the pit in the middle of the yard. All in all, not too bad. He should probably be able to get it cleaned up today. It’s not like he’ll have anything else to do. He idly wonders if the twins will want him to quit his contractor job. He should probably offer anyway – if the hurt of seeing them isn’t too much to handle, the awkwardness alone probably will be. 

“ _I didn’t call to ‘dump’ you, Dean. I called because I was worried about you. And not that I really want him to, but I’m sure Jimmy will call soon as well. He made it clear to me, in no uncertain terms, last night that he isn’t giving you up without a fight._ ”

“Oh.” It’s not that he didn’t believe Charlie when she said that Cas and Jimmy hadn’t run screaming from his drunken antics. It’s just that Dean has a history of people leaving him even at the best of times, and last night definitely wasn’t the best of times. So this is unknown territory for Dean… in several ways as a matter of fact. “So you both still want to be with me?” He asks. “That whole thing with the schedule and everything? You actually want that?” 

“ _I do,_ ” he says, and the affirmation in his voice is clear. Jesus, he really does want this. “ _But Dean… if this isn’t what you want, as much as it pains me to do it, I’m willing to bow out._ ” Wait, what? Bow out? 

“Cas, I-“

“ _I want you to be happy, Dean. If this… arrangement… makes you uncomfortable, then I’ll back off and-_ ”

“No!” Dean shouts. That’s the opposite of what he wants. “No, Cas. That’s not what I-“ Fuck. He just got Cas. He can’t lose him now. “Cas, I… I don’t want you to ‘back off’, ok?” 

“ _Ok, Dean. Only if you’re sure…_ ”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Suddenly, Dean hears a _beep_ and looks down to see that Jimmy is calling. “Fuck. Cas, Jimmy is calling. I should probably-“

“ _It’s alright, Dean. Go ahead and talk to him. We can talk more later._ ” 

He hangs up with Cas and clicks over to Jimmy who is, just as Cas had said, more than willing to go along with the previously agreed upon plan, such as it is. Dean almost ends things with Jimmy once and for all – he knows that he probably should and the words are on the tip of his tongue – but if this is a way to make both twins happy… well, Dean figures that it can’t really hurt to try. At least for a little while. 

So he makes plans with Jimmy for the following day and spends the rest of the day cleaning up with Sam, Sarah, and Charlie – pointedly ignoring any further discussions about his love life from the girls and laughing along with Sam about his so-called ‘dream.’ If Sam figures out what’s really happening on his own then Dean won’t deny it. But if not, well, he doesn’t really see any reason to bring it up. He knows exactly what Sam would say anyway, and when has Dean ever done what Sam says that he should? Never, that’s when… even if the fucker is right almost all the fucking time. 

Fuck. This isn’t going to end well, is it?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never post chapters without proofreading at least once. That being said... I've stayed up all night writing this really long chapter and I'm tired as fuck so I'm just going to post it and then go back tomorrow to fix any mistakes. Sorry in advance if there's any glaring problems. 
> 
> Please note the new tags! 
> 
> I'm adding a spoliery explanation in the end notes regarding the non-con touching - it's very brief and not traumatizing for the character but in case you want to know before you read, it'll be there for you to see.

“ _I’ve invited Damon to come to Thanksgiving._ ”

“What? Gabe, why? Wait… didn’t you tell me that he has a girlfriend? And a brother? Why isn’t he spending Thanksgiving with them?” Turning in his office chair, Castiel stands up and walks over to the window to look down upon the courtyard. The few small trees are mostly all bare now, but the weather isn’t too cold – Dean may still decide to eat his lunch outside. He’ll probably spend it with Jimmy though, the thought of which makes Castiel’s guts knot with jealousy, but at least if he does, Castiel won’t have to worry about where else he might be spending his time… what else he might be doing. 

Sighing, he turns back around and slumps back down into his chair, picking up a pen from the cup on his desk. 

_Click, click… click, click…_

It has been three weeks since Halloween. Three weeks since Castiel himself had suggested the _arrangement_ that he now found himself in. And it has been both the best and worst three weeks of his life. The best days, obviously, were the ones which found Castiel in full possession of Dean’s attention and affections – Wednesdays, Thursdays, and alternating weekend days. And the worst days – days like today, a Tuesday – when he had to repeatedly ask himself what the hell he was thinking not to just demand that Dean cast Jimmy aside once and for all and commit himself fully to Castiel. 

“ _Well, yeah, he does. But the girlfriend is away on some sort of long-term spiritual quest or some shit – don’t bother asking, I have no fucking idea – and he and the brother have a very on-again, off-again relationship – of which they’re now in the off-again period, I guess, so he asked if he could come. Actually, it was more like he begged to come. He said after the shit storm that went down on Halloween that he wouldn’t want to miss Thanksgiving for the world. Mentioned something about bringing popcorn…_ ” 

_Click, click… click, click…_

Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is two days away and Castiel still doesn’t know what Dean’s plans are. He knows that Sam is out of town for the whole week because Castiel had been the one to approve his vacation time, and the excited young man had gushed over his invite to his girlfriend’s father’s home in New York. So Castiel doesn’t think that Dean will be spending the holiday with his brother. That leaves Bobby, of course, and maybe Charlie too, but he isn’t sure. Dean has been suspiciously mum about the whole situation so Castiel isn’t sure how to go about asking him about it. He has a feeling that it is somewhat of a sore spot for the man and he definitely doesn’t want to do anything to upset him. 

“Yeah, well tell him to bring a shield and a poncho. You never know what will go flying at the dinner table. Why does he think it will be exciting though? Have you told him about Michael and Lucifer?” 

“ _Mike and Luci? Hell no, Cas! He’s signing up for the Cas and Jimmy Deathmatch! We figure that with Dean there, Mike and Luci will just be the opening act. I mean, talk about awkward family dinners, am I right?_ ” 

Castiel hadn’t even thought of inviting Dean. Honestly, knowing how close he is to his family, Castiel just assumed that he would be spending the holiday with them – well, some of them, at least. Now he’s wondering if Jimmy has already asked Dean. And he’s kicking himself for not asking Dean first. Damn it! Maybe it isn’t yet too late. Thursdays are his days after all. 

_Click, click, click, click… click, click, click, click…_ ”

“ _You know, one of these days you’re going to click that pen so fast that it’s going to burst into flames. And then where will you be, brother?_ ”

Castiel stops his frantic clicking and tosses the pen down onto the desk with a clatter, then glances at the clock. “Gabe, I’ve got to let you go. I have a meeting.” It’s not actually a lie, he does have a meeting starting in about half an hour. He’s got to find Dean first though. 

“ _Alright, bro. I guess I’ll see you later. Don’t kill Jimmy until we get there!_ ” 

Castiel doesn’t dignify that with a response; instead he just hangs up the phone and then pushes the intercom button to speak with his assistant. “Meg, call Inias and find out where my brother is right now.” 

“ _Yes, sir._ ”

He stands up again and grabs his suit coat off of the back of his chair, slipping it on as he heads out the door. 

“Is that so? Really? Should I… oh? Alright then, I’ll let him know. Thanks, angel.” Meg hangs up the phone and turns her attention to Castiel’s impatient countenance. 

“’Angel?’ You and Inias seem to be getting along better. Did he tell you where Jimmy is?” Meg’s impassive face suddenly morphs into a look of barely checked excitement, a devilish smirk matching the sparkle in her dark eyes. 

“Inias and I have managed to find some common ground.” She allows her gaze to travel slowly up and down Castiel’s body, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. “As far as your brother goes… Inias said that you might want to wait a little while to speak with him.” Castiel narrows his eyes and waits for her to elaborate. “He said that Jimmy and Dean are in a ‘meeting’ and probably wouldn’t appreciate being interrup-”

Castiel has turned and is striding quickly away before Meg even has the chance to complete her sentence. It’s a relatively short walk down the hall to Jimmy’s office and it’s made even shorter by the almost jogging pace set by the fuming man. 

“I’ll call you back-“ Inias quickly hangs up the phone and stands up. “Mr. Novak, sir, I don’t think you want to-“ Castiel practically growls as he stalks up to Jimmy’s office door and Inias has the good sense to stop talking and sit back down in his chair, a somewhat terrified look on his face. 

The door is unlocked so all Castiel has to do is turn the knob and then he’s swiftly striding into the office and slamming the door behind him. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the fu- Cas! Wha- what are you doing here?” Shit! He knew this was a bad idea. But Jimmy had been adamant that they wouldn’t be interrupted and Dean had eventually relented and agreed because, quite frankly, he’s been stressed as fuck lately and a well-timed blowjob always seemed to do wonders for his nerves. 

Jimmy sits back on his heels and carefully wipes his mouth while leaning around the side of the desk (which Dean is currently leaned back against, frantically trying to tuck his dick back into his pants without zipping into any of the important bits – he’s done that before, it’s not fun) to look at his enraged twin. “Is there something I can help you with, brother?” 

Castiel stalks up to Jimmy and grabs him by the front of his shirt, ruthlessly hauling him up to his feet and then savagely pushing him up against the wall. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?!” 

“I’m _trying_ to give my boyfriend a spectacular blowjob. What the fuck do you think _you’re_ doing?” 

Cas and Jimmy are almost identical in size, but Dean knows for a fact that Cas is stronger. And the fact that he’s looking at Jimmy like he’s about to enact some heavenly vengeance, so sayeth the Lord, makes Dean hurry to buckle his belt and rush over to insert himself between the brothers. “Ok, ok, let’s just all take a step back…” Dean puts both hands on Cas’s chest and gently pushes him back. He doesn’t take his eyes off Jimmy though, so Dean grabs him by the chin and directs his attention onto his own face. “…and talk about this. _Talk,_ not shout,” he emphasizes when Cas looks like he’s about to lose it again. 

He seems to consider his words carefully, but instead of anything that Dean might be expecting, Cas simply says, “It’s time for the meeting,” and then turns and walks toward the door. He turns to look at Dean once more before saying, “And Michael expects you to be there too, Dean.” Then he opens the door and strides through it, closing it much more gently than he had before. 

“So, where were we?” Jimmy steps forward and reaches for Dean’s belt buckle but Dean stops him with a hand on his wrist. 

“Seriously, Jimmy?” Dean releases his wrist and takes a few steps back, rubbing a hand down his face. 

“What's the matter?” Jimmy asks, seeming to all the world like he actually doesn’t know the answer to that question. 

“’What’s the matter?’ Jimmy, Cas just walked in on us doing… that! And what’s this meeting that we have to go to? What the hell kind of meeting would Michael want me at?!” He's starting to panic a little at this point. He’s never even met Michael and now the guy is requesting Dean’s presence at some meeting? A meeting in which Dean is going to have to attend with Cas and Jimmy after what just happened? Shit. 

“It’s just some quarterly thing. I mostly just listen to Michael drone on and try not to fall asleep.” He walks over to his attached bathroom and washes his hands, then gargles some mouthwash before coming back out and straightening his tie. “Not sure why he wants you there though. And as for Cas… he’ll get over it. I guess you’re right though, we should probably get going. If we’re late it might be Michael that comes in here next time and that wouldn’t be fun for anyone.” 

Dean wants to argue that Cas’s untimely appearance hasn’t been fun for anyone either, but Jimmy is already walking out the door and Dean has to jog to catch up with him. 

He choses to ignore the simpering smile that Inias bestows upon Jimmy, as well as the hateful glare that he offers to Dean. He doesn’t have time right now to deal with Jimmy’s assistant’s obvious crush on his boss. It's a problem for another day… like maybe when Hell freezes over, or pigs fly, something along those lines. 

When they finally reach the meeting room, it appears as though they're the last to arrive. They take the last two available seats around a glossy, dark wood table and Dean looks directly across the table to see Cas, sitting next to a blonde man with whom he is speaking to in an undertone and smiling slightly. 

As Dean watches, the man slips his hand around Cas’s bicep and leans in close to whisper something into his ear. When he draws back, he winks at Cas and Cas’s answering blush makes Dean’s blood boil. Who in the ever-loving fuck is this douchebag and what the fuck did he just say to Cas? 

A dark-haired man who bears a remarkable resemblance to the twins has started speaking at the head of the table – Dean assumes this has to be Michael – but he doesn’t draw his attention away from Cas and the blond bastard until he feels a hand on his knee. 

Looking to his right he sees that while Jimmy’s hand is on his knee, the man’s attention is elsewhere – on the other side of him there is a smarmy-looking man in a dark suit looking lecherously at Jimmy and speaking to him with a quiet rumble. He can tell that Jimmy is uncomfortable, but Dean doesn’t really know what Jimmy expects him to do about it. 

So he puts his hand over Jimmy’s and squeezes it once in reassurance and then goes right back to staring at Cas and Blondie McButtface. They’re not doing a very good job pretending to listen to Michael – though Michael doesn’t seem to notice – and at one point the fucker even has the audacity to look directly at Dean, purse his fucking lips, and blow him a goddamn kiss! What the everloving shit is this?!

“Ow!” Dean turns his head at Jimmy’s exclamation and only then realizes that he’s just about crushing the poor man’s hand in his own. He lets go immediately and gives Jimmy an apologetic smile but all he gets in return is an irritated scowl. 

“Sorry,” Dean whispers, and when he looks back across the table he sees that Cas is looking at them with concern while his ‘friend’ is smirking at Dean – just as much the smug asshole that Dean’s sure he is… though he doesn’t even know what the fuck the jerk’s name is. 

“Is this hulking Neanderthal bothering you, Jimmy?” Dean hears the other asshole at the table say, his creepy gaze fixed on Dean from the other side of Jimmy. 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Dean asks, straightening up in his chair and turning his body to face the man. 

“I said-“

“Excuse me,” Michael interrupts, raising his voice to be heard down the table. “Is there a problem here?” 

“Nope, no problem at all, Michael,” Jimmy says, sitting forward in his chair so that Dean’s view of the other man is blocked. Michael doesn’t really looked convinced but he goes back to running the meeting anyway and Dean slumps back in his chair and resumes his glaring across the table. This day just keeps getting worse, but Dean figures that that is just keeping in-line with the rest of this week… 

The whole week had started off complete shit – not only were Sam and Charlie planning on leaving Dean to spend Thanksgiving with their respective girlfriends’ families, but yesterday Bobby had informed Dean that he was also going out of town. He’d received a call from Ellen inviting him out to Nebraska to celebrate the holiday and since Bobby hadn’t seen her since Christmas last year, Dean didn’t really blame him for wanting to go. Her invite had included Dean but because there really wasn’t time to drive all the way out there, and Bobby had planned on flying anyway, Dean had declined. So now he’s going to be spending Thanksgiving alone for the first time in his life so yeah, sue him, he’s pretty fucking bummed. 

“So, any questions?” Dean tears his gaze away from the duo across the table to look around at the rest of the room’s inhabitants. No one appears to have any questions so Michael concludes the meeting and everyone begins to rise to their feet, small conversations breaking out all over the room. 

Dean follows the flow of people out into the lobby and slips away from Jimmy to go join Cas and his ‘friend’ on the other side of the large open space. He has a sinking feeling that he does actually know who this guy is, and if so, Dean means to make it perfectly clear to him that Cas is spoken for and the dude would do well to remember that. 

He can’t just go up and kiss Cas, as much as he’d like to just stick his fucking tongue down his fucking throat, that would probably be frowned upon. So instead he walks up to the pair and, completely ignoring the blond, he offers Cas his most charming smile and says, “Hey handsome.” 

“Hello, Dean,” he responds. Then, stepping around to include the smirking dick, he continues with, “Balthazar, this is Dean. Dean is the head auto mechanic here at Novak.” 

Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be. Alrighty then… “Yep, that’s me, Dean Winchester. I’ve yet to meet a motor that I can’t get running. I guess you could say that I’m good with my hands, isn’t that right, babe?” Dean snakes his hand around Cas’s waist and tugs him into his side, meeting the slightly shorter man’s suspicious glare with his most cocky smirk.

Before either of them have the opportunity to respond to Dean’s words, Michael is approaching with his hands stretched out to his sides and a big smile on his handsome face. “Castiel,” he says. “Won’t you introduce me to your friends?” 

Dean removes his hand from around Cas and tones down his smile to something more appropriate to the situation. 

"Michael, this is Dean Winchester and Balthazar Roché.” Michael’s smile didn’t falter as he shakes Dean’s hand, and then Balthazar’s. 

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard much about the both of you. Dean, tell me, how are you liking working here at Novak? Everyone treating you well?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s been great-“

“And Balthazar,” Michael continues, basically cutting Dean off and then proceeding to focus all of his attention on the other man. “How are you settling in? This must be a bit different from what you’re used to.” 

“Yes, well it does take some getting used to,” Balthazar begins in his soft-spoken, cultured English-sounding accent. “Your brother has been most welcoming though, which has made the transition relatively painless.” Balthazar shares a soft smile with Cas and a warm chuckle with Michael, and Dean just wants to punch him in his pale, poncey face – wanker (British-sounding dude deserves a British-sounding insult, Dean thinks). 

“So, I know that it’s probably not something that you’re used to celebrating, but if you don’t already have plans for the next few days, I’d like to invite you out to our family home to spend Thanksgiving. I think you’ll find that it’s somewhat difficult to find much of anything open around here and we’d be more than happy to have you.” 

“Oh, well that’s very kind of you, Novak, but I wouldn’t want to impose…” 

“It’s no imposition at all! I can drive you there myself and we have plenty of room. Please, I insist.” 

“Well, if you’re sure… I’d be happy to attend.” Great. Just fucking great. Dean’s going to be spending Thanksgiving alone and this asshole is going to be spending it with Cas… with _Dean’s_ boyfriend. Dean’s so pissed right now that he’s genuinely surprised that there isn’t literal steam coming out of both of his ears. 

Looking around the room while he tries to think of a way of excusing himself from the rest of this conversation without just screaming at the top of his lungs and running away, Dean’s gaze falls on Jimmy and that other asshole from the meeting. Jimmy is literally backed into a corner and it’s obvious from his body language that he’s extremely uncomfortable. 

As Dean watches, the shorter man boxes Jimmy in with one hand on the wall near his head and then lets his other hand rest on Jimmy’s hip, the tips of his fingers digging into the top of Jimmy’s ass as well as they can reach. 

Seeing red, and with his hands already itching to hit something, Dean rudely pushes past Michael and Balthazar and stalks over to the other side of the room, grabs the unknown asshole’s shoulder, yanks him around, and then clocks him right in the nose. He hears a sickening crunch and watches the man crumple to the floor, clutching his face as blood pours out of his broken nose. 

“Dean!” Jimmy shouts, holding Dean back from further violence. “What are you doing?!”

“He had his skeevy hands all over you, Jimmy! And don’t try to tell me that you wanted that. I saw your face!” 

“You bastard! You broke by bloody nose!” The man is still crouched on the floor but now he’s holding a dark red handkerchief up to his gushing orifice. 

“And I’ll break more than that if you put your hands on him again!” Dean shouts. He feels hands holding him back and he turns to see that Cas, Balthazar, and Michael have joined them – all three of them sporting varying looks of confusion and surprise. 

“What’s going on here?” Michael demands. “Jimmy? What happened?” 

“What happened?! This hooligan broke my bloody nose, that’s what happened!” Shit. This day is only getting worse. Dean suddenly realizes that he could very well lose his job because of this pervy douche and he’s not about to go down without a fight, no pun intended. 

“Why don’t you tell them all about the part where you had Jimmy backed up against the wall and your hand all over his ass, huh, douchebag?” He goes to advance on him again but Jimmy holds him back, then steps in front of him to address the group. 

“It was all just a misunderstanding,” Jimmy says, placing a placating hand on Dean’s chest when he begins to protest. “Everything’s fine. Dean, why don’t you go somewhere and try to calm down and I’ll help Crowley take care of his nose. Crowley (surprise, surprise – douchebag has a douchey name) also starts to protest but one hard look from Jimmy has him shutting his mouth right quick. 

Before Dean can say something that he may regret, he turns and stalks off toward the garage, silently fuming the whole way there. 

When he arrives, he picks up a crow bar and a discarded hub cap. He places the hubcap on a work bench and starts wailing on the thing over and over again. He finally gets tired and throws the crow bar down on the ground, then picks up the mangled hub cap and throws is against the wall with all his remaining strength. 

He’s standing there, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face, when he hears a voice from near the door. “What did that poor hub cap ever do to you?” 

Twisting his body around toward the voice, Dean sees Cas standing there, arms folded across his chest. He doesn’t say a word to the dark-haired man, choosing instead to simply walk up to him and yank him closer by the tie, crashing their lips together when he does. 

Dean directs the kiss, asserting his dominance by plundering Cas’s mouth and biting his lips while his hands grab Cas’s ass and pulls him close. Cas allows it for a few moments but then he grasps the open edges of Dean’s flannel and uses his superior strength to twist them around, pushing Dean up against the wall and taking control of the kiss like he always does. 

Dean almost fights him on the change – he’s so ramped up that his fight-or-fuck response is teetering on the edge and really he could go either way, he thinks – but instead he decides to just go with it. Cas is fucking amazing when he gets like this and Dean would much rather be fucking than fighting anyway. 

That doesn’t mean that he’s going to just submit like a good little bitch though – that can be fun but right now, right now Dean wants it rough. He wants to bite and claw, and goad Cas into giving it to him hard. He wants him to leave marks that will last for days – marks that will be with him even when Cas isn’t. 

“What are you gonna do, huh, Cas? You gonna get down on your knees and suck my dick?” Dean feels a shiver go down his spine when Cas pulls back enough to glare at Dean with his dark blue eyes half closed in what Dean can’t quite tell is lust or contempt. He knew that reminding Cas of what he saw earlier in Jimmy’s office would rile the man up like nothing else and he can’t find it in himself to feel ashamed about that. He’d do worse to get Cas to look at him like that. 

“Fuck. You,” Cas spits out, and Dean knows that it’s more than just a condemnation… it’s also a promise. 

Cas takes hold of Dean’s flannel again, this time to yank the sides of the half-buttoned garment apart – sending the buttons pinging in all directions and ripping the remnants down and off of his arms. His black t-shirt is next to go, Cas whipping the thing over his head and tossing it to the floor with no regard to dirt or oil stains. 

Wasting no time, Cas leans forward and licks a hot line up the center of his chest, ending at his pulse point and sucking a dark mark while he uses his deft fingers to undo the buckle of his belt and the fastening of his pants before plunging his hand in and wrapping it around Dean’s aching cock. 

He groans and bucks his hips in response – fucking into the tight channel of Cas’s fist. It’s dry, but the grip is exquisite and Dean is a little worried that this party will be over before it even begins, so he yanks Cas’s head back with a tight grip on his hair and distracts him with a passionate kiss as he guides him backward and nearer the workbench. 

When they reach the bench, Dean pulls back and smirks at the dazed look on Cas’s face. He looks about as aroused as Dean feels, but he needs him to focus so he pulls Cas’s hand out of his pants and says, “Thought you were going to fuck me, Cas? Did you change your mind? Need me to go find someone else to get the job done?” 

And fuck, that was either the worst thing to say or the best, because Cas fucking growls and then spins him around before bending him over. He grabs Dean by the hair and pushes him down on the wooden surface, then leans over and rasps out, “ _Stay,_ ” before straightening up again and stepping back. 

Dean stays where he is but turns his head back over his shoulder to watch as Cas slowly removes his suit coat and lays it gently down on the hood of a nearby truck. Next he loosens his tie before unknotting it, and then grabs one end and pulls to make it slide through his collar and off of his neck. He rolls it around his hand and then moves on to methodically undo the buttons of his white oxford shirt, watching Dean watching him – stormy blue eyes narrowed like a hawk with a view of its prey. 

He doesn’t remove the shirt completely, preferring to simply untuck it and pull the sides open. He then moves on to the buckle of his belt, still staring at Dean while the _chink_ and _clack_ of the metal echos in the cavernous room. 

Next comes the part that makes Dean’s mouth water every time… Cas uses those nimble fingers to slowly unbutton and unzip his black dress pants and then pulls the front of his boxers down just enough to free his hard cock and heavy balls. He spits in his hand and then brings it down to stroke his rigid length, taking a moment to close his eyes and tip his head back while his revels in the feel of his own hand working himself over. 

It’s fucking beautiful to watch and Dean struggles with the urge to go up to him and drop to his knees so that he can feel that perfect dick in his mouth – silk over steel filling him up while that gorgeous face looks down on him in adoration. 

But Cas told him to stay so that’s what he’s going to do. He knows that it will be worth it so instead he just licks his lips wiggles his hips, trying to find some friction for his poor neglected dick. 

He whines when he’s unable to find any relief and that seems to snap Cas out of whatever self-love trance that he is in because he drops his gaze back to Dean and begins to stalk over toward him, never once taking his hand off his hard cock. 

When he reaches him, Cas unravels the striped tie from around his hand and pulls Dean’s wrists together behind his back. He then proceeds to wrap the tie around Dean’s wrists, securing them there like he’s done several times before. 

“What’s your color, Dean?” The practice of bdsm hadn’t been completely foreign to Dean before he met Cas, but he’s got to admit that he prefers the color system that Cas had taught him over the use of safewords. It felt more natural for some reason and he liked the built in ability to express different levels of comfort that the system contained. 

“Green,” Dean responded, as sure of that as he was sure of anything, ever. The bindings at his wrists only made him more aroused, his dick twitching repeatedly as he tested their strength and found them sound. 

“Good,” Cas said, leaning over to place a single, sweet kiss to the palm of his hand before reaching down to yank his pants and underwear over the curve of his ass. He continues in that vein until the garments are down around his ankles, but leaves them there, along with his boots. He appreciates that though – not only does he enjoy the constraint, but there is also a lot of pointy shit lying around the floor of the garage. Dean may get off on pain, on occasion, but not _that_ kind of pain. 

The feel of Cas’s hard cock pressed into the cleft of his ass brings Dean’s attention back to the task at hand. He undulates his hips so that the hardened length slides back and forth between his cheeks. This earns him a light slap, but it less in admonishment and more in encouragement because Cas grabs both sides of Dean’s rounded ass and pulls them apart a bit just to push them back together once his dick slides deeper between them. 

His balls slap gently against Dean’s puckered hole and Dean moans – partly in relief of that slight contact, but mostly as a way to encourage Cas to get on with it. He’s so fucking horny – what with the earlier interrupted blowjob, and the constant frustration – that he’s about four seconds away from begging Cas to just take him dry and damn the consequenses. 

He knows that Cas would never do that though, never hurt Dean like that, so he isn’t surprised when he hears Cas rummage around in the depths of one of his pockets and then hears the sound of a small package ripping and liquid being squirted out. 

The touch of a cool finger comes next, circling twice and then breaching his entrance. Dean forces himself to relax while Cas works him open – scissoring and stretching until Dean is moaning and pushing back, so fucking ready that he can hardly stand it. 

“Fuck me, Cas, _please…_ need your cock, baby…” That seems to do it because the next thing he knows, Cas’s fingers are gone and in their place is his thick cock – pressing in and to the hilt in one go. “Oh, _fuck…_ ” he moans, feeling Cas’s long fingers grip tightly to his hips as the man pulls out almost all the way and then shoves back in, ruthlessly pulling Dean back until his ass slaps against Cas’s hips. 

He doesn’t spend much time being gentle, quickly picking up the pace and fucking into Dean hard and fast. “Is this what you wanted, Dean? Huh? Just couldn’t control yourself until I fucked you, is that it? Is this what you needed?” 

“Yes, Cas! Yes!” It’s really not as simple as that, but it sure as shit doesn’t hurt matters. “Need you to fuck me! Harder, baby… do it harder!” 

Cas grabs Dean’s wrists in one hand and leans back slightly, using the leverage to slam his cock into Dean’s tight ass. His shoulders burn where they’re pulled back and his ass is sure feeling it too, but the pain doesn’t dampen the pleasure – if anything, it enhances it – and the new angle is doing wonders as far as Dean’s prostate is concerned so he just focuses on that and takes everything that Cas has to give him.

“Are you close, Dean? God, I’m so fucking close… going to come soon.” 

“Yeah… yeah, I’m close.” He’s really fucking close, actually. Like, so close that he doesn’t think he’ll even need a hand on his dick to make him come. If Cas just keeps going the way he’s going, if won’t matter that his hands are tied behind his back or that Cas doesn’t appear to be moving his own hands anytime soon either. “Keep going, baby… just like that… gonna make me come.” 

“Who’s going to make you come, Dean?” Shit. Dean should have seen this coming. It’s his own damn fault that Cas is getting possessive now. “Say it, Dean. I want to hear you say it…”

“You, Cas… You’re going to make me come… Just you… Only you.” Dean knows that Cas knows that that’s only true right now, but fuck if the thought isn’t a massive turn-on for some reason. 

“That’s right,” Cas growls, leaning down rasp into Dean’s ear. “You’re mine, Dean… _mine_ … no matter what.” 

He grasps Dean’s earlobe between his teeth and bites down. The feeling is just what Dean needs to push him over the edge and he lets out a strangled moan, clamping his ass down and milking Cas’s dick as he comes in thick spurts all over the floor. 

The extra pressure must do wonders for Cas too because he stills suddenly, resting his forehead against the back of Dean’s neck while his hands hang onto Dean’s hips for dear life – and yeah, definitely going to be some bruising there for the next few days at least. 

They stay like that for several minutes. Dean wants nothing more than to find a nearby bed to crawl into and fall asleep for days – Cas probably wants the same thing, Dean thinks, with the startlingly little amount of movement that the other man is displaying. If he didn’t know better, Dean might think that the orgasm killed him, but eventually Cas straightens up and pulls his softening dick out of Dean’s thoroughly used hole, standing back momentarily to admire the view of his come seeping back out. 

He doesn’t stay there too long though. He seems to remember suddenly that Dean is still tied up, so he quickly undoes the knot and unwraps Dean’s wrists before standing back again and doing up his pants. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, stepping forward again to help Dean straighten up to a standing position. He bends down and pulls Dean’s pants and underwear up for him, then goes about collecting his shirts before placing them on the workbench next to were Dean has turned around and is now leaning back up against it, rubbing his wrists. 

“Yeah, Cas… I’m fine,” he says. Physically it’s true, though emotionally he’s not quite as sure. He’s still harboring all sorts of hurt and pissed off, but he doesn’t want to talk about it so he tries to stick with the physical for now. 

“Are you sure? Because you didn’t seem fine a little while ago.” 

Dean sighs and finishes getting dressed, then searches around for something to wipe up his come from the floor. He settles on a dirty shop towel and throws it away when he’s done. He kind of just wants to get out of here now. He plans on starting his long holiday weekend extra early and he’s go to get to the liquor store if he’s going to be able to get drunk and wallow in his loneliness for three days straight. “I’m fine, Cas. Just tired, I guess. It’s been a long day and I want to go home.” 

“Alright,” Cas says, extreme skepticism coloring his tone. “Oh, before I forget… I wanted to invite you to come spend Thanksgiving with us. Michael was about to ask you before you ran off to punch Crowley – thanks for that, by the way. I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” Dean smirks at the memory but quickly lets it pass so that he can focus on what Cas is saying. “I mean, I had planned on inviting you today anyway but things just kept getting in the way.” 

Dean searches Cas’s face for any signs of doubt, but he doesn’t see any. And he’d be lying if he said that he was looking forward to three days of sad drinking. So he says, “Sure, Cas. I’ll come.” 

Cas’s answering smile is pleased indeed, and it keeps Dean from contemplating all of the potential negative outcomes that may arise from this spur of the moment decision. But he’ll think about that later. For now, all he knows is that he won’t be spending Thanksgiving alone and that’s gotta be better than the alternative… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding the non-con touching: Crowley puts his hand on Jimmy's ass. That's the extent of it.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins... Thanksgiving is going to be a three-day, (probably) three-chapter affair so buckle up, buttercups - it's going to be a bumpy ride! 
> 
> Minor note: I went back to the last chapter and changed where Michael said that Cas could drive Balthazar to Pontiac, instead making it so that Michael himself would drive him because, well, you'll see why... 
> 
> Also, for the sake of this story, the family home in Pontiac isn't going to be the middling sized house that they used in the show. Instead it's going to be freaking huge so just go with it, please. 
> 
> And lastly, this chapter is really long and I only gave it a cursory look, so if there are any glaring mistakes, I'll likely be fixing them sometime in the next few days. I think it's alright for the most part though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Oh! And happy Valentine's Day, my lovlies!! ♥♥♥

The silence inside the Impala is so fraught with tension that Dean suspects one word might light a match that would end up sparking an all-out civil war.

He has no idea what he had been thinking, offering to drive both twins down to Pontiac. He should have known that this would devolve into a no-holds barred, winner takes absolutely nothing at all-type of situation.

 _If_ he had been following THE RULES, well then by rights he should have invited only Jimmy along and left Cas to find his own means of transportation (seeing as it’s still Tuesday and thus Jimmy’s day). 

But see, having already said a hearty ‘Fuck You!’ to THE RULES by letting Cas tie him up and fuck him hard in the Novak garage this afternoon, well Dean didn’t even stop to think about it before inviting Cas to ride with him first. 

Then, of course, one can only imagine how well that went over when he later spoke with Jimmy to invite him along as well. The only thing that worked at all to placate the youngest Novak had been Dean picking him up first and letting him ride shotgun… oh, and also his agreement that even though Thanksgiving is on a Thursday (and therefore technically Cas’s day), Dean is willing to split his time between the brothers on that day and promise not to play favorites (it being a holiday, after all).

Unfortunately, the whole plan had backfired when they had arrived at Cas’s condo and explained the situation. Cas had not taken any of it well (to say the least), so now both twins are silently fuming and Dean can’t even tell if they are just mad at each other, or if their anger is also aimed at him. Either way, it makes for one very awkward and uncomfortable family road trip. 

Dean feels like he wants to blurt out, “Are we there yet?!” even though they just barely made it out of the city and he knows that they aren’t even half-way to their destination. So instead he reaches over and clicks on the stereo, and the slow, steady twang of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s [‘Have You Ever Seen the Rain’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g4flAZEgtjs%20) plays softly, but clearly, out of the speakers. 

_Someone told me long ago_  
_There’s a calm before the storm_  
_I know, it’s been comin’ for some time_

If anything, the music only seems to ramp up the tension. Dean glances over to look at Jimmy, then up into the rearview mirror to spot Cas, who incongruously is sitting in the _middle_ of the backseat, instead of off to one side. It’s dark outside – they hadn’t left the city until after 8:00 – but the passing street lights cast an intermittent orange glow, enough light for Dean to see his passengers. Both brothers are mirroring each other’s posture – jaws tense, eyes narrowed, and arms crossed defensively over their chests. 

_When it’s over so they say_  
_It’ll rain a sunny day_  
_I know, shinin’ down like water_

Dean sort of wants to gun it – just, peddle to the metal in an attempt to shorten the duration of the ride. But falling temps have made the light snowfall that they experienced earlier turn to icy slick and Dean would never risk his Baby, not to mention his boyfriends (Jesus, it still sounds weird to even think in plural like that), just to save himself a little bit of discomfort. 

_I want to know_  
_Have you ever seen the rain?_  
_I want to know_  
_Have you ever seen the rain_  
_Comin’ down on a sunny day?_

Dean starts to tap his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the music, but it’s only a few moments before both twins are staring at him with annoyed looks on their already pinched faces, so he stops, rolling his eyes and sighing. 

_Yesterday and days before_  
_Sun is cold and rain is hard_  
_I know, been that way for all my time_

_’Til forever, on it goes_  
_Through the circle, fast and slow,_  
_I know it can’t stop, I wonder_

Giving one last look at the silently fuming duo, and deciding that they might as well address the gigantic elephant in the car, as it were, Dean sighs again and speaks. 

“Come on, guys… we can’t just not talk to each other for the next two days. Cas, why did you even invite me if you’re just going to give me the silent treatment? Do you even want me here?” He can’t help but be a little miffed, as well as a little hurt, and he isn’t surprised if it shows in his voice. 

“That’s not-“

“ _I_ want you here, Dean,” Jimmy interrupts. “It’s _him_ ,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder with his chin, “that shouldn’t be here.” 

Cas leans forward and grips the top of the bench seat in front of him. “ _I_ shouldn’t be here?” he snarls, glaring at his brother. “I’m the one who invited him! So if any of the people in this car shouldn’t be here it’s _you_.” He sits back again and crosses his arms petulantly. 

Jimmy responds by whipping his whole upper body around to grip the seat just as Cas had done, only this time he’s facing back, instead of front. “It’s not like I wasn’t going to invite him… I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. It’s been a very busy day!”

“Oh yes… _very_ busy indeed,” Cas says, a not at all subtle sneer in his voice. “Too busy giving blow jobs in your office and doing God only knows what with Crowley to-“

“Hey now, Cas,” Dean interrupts, while Jimmy lets out an indignant squawk. “Crowley was being a douche. Jimmy didn’t ask for that.” Jimmy gives him a grateful smile and he hears Cas huff sullenly behind him. 

_I want to know_  
_Have you ever seen the rain?_  
_I want to know_  
_Have you ever seen the rain_  
_Comin’ down on a sunny day?_

Ok, maybe heart-to-hearts were a bad idea. Perhaps small talk would be a more effective means of dialing down the tension in here. 

“So,” he begins, trying to affect a more lighthearted tone of voice. “I’ve been thinking about getting a new mattress.”

“Why do you need a new mattress?” Jimmy asks, somewhat suspicious. 

“Well, I don’t _need_ one, exactly. I just kind of want one. One of those memory foam ones, you know? Charlie’s got one and it’s awesome!” 

“Why were you in Charlie’s bed?” Jimmy then asks, definitely suspicious now. 

“Seriously?!” Dean responds, giving Jimmy an incredulous look while Cas huffs a small laugh in the back seat. 

“Now you’re worried about Charlie?” Cas asks, and yeah, he’s most definitely laughing back there. 

Jimmy shoots him a murderous glare and then turns to stare sullenly out the window. The song ends and commercials start playing in its stead, so Dean turns the volume knob down until only a quiet murmur can be heard. There’s silence from all of the car’s inhabitants for several minutes and Dean just about resigns himself to a mute duration, but then Jimmy mumbles something under his breath. 

He’s almost afraid to ask, but then he doesn’t have to because Cas says, “What did you say, Jimmy? We didn’t quite catch that.” 

Huffing a loud sigh, Jimmy uncrosses his arms and turns so that he can glare at both Dean and Cas. “I _said…_ I just don’t understand why he needs to get a new mattress when his current mattress is perfectly fine.”

Dean tries to think of something to say that will blow the whole mattress thing over – geez, he never knew furniture could be quite so contentious – but he isn’t quick enough and Cas speaks up first. 

“Well, maybe his current mattress just isn’t doing it for him? Maybe he thought long and hard about what he really wants in a mattress and decided that a new one would better satisfy his needs.” Dean really thinks he should maybe jump in here but his lips are trying to form words that just aren’t coming to him and he’s not even sure if there is any air in his lungs. “Maybe his _current mattress_ is needy and overbearing and only thinks about itself! Ever consider that?!” 

Ok, definitely not talking about mattresses anymore. 

“Oh yeah? Well maybe if this _new mattress_ hadn’t lured him in and forced him to think that it was so fucking superior, then perhaps he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that he needs a new mattress in the first place!” Cas scoffs loudly but Jimmy isn’t finished yet. “There is nothing wrong with his current mattress. He can be perfectly happy with it and he doesn’t need a new one!” 

Another tense silence fills the car and now Dean’s stomach is starting to hurt because both twins are staring at him, _willing_ him to pick a side, and he just can’t. So he takes the coward’s way out (and that’s a thing he never thought he’d ever do) and pulls onto an off ramp and into the closest gas station. 

He gets out without a word and just stops himself from slamming the door before he stalks into the shop and heads to the bathroom in the back. He locks the door behind him and for a few moments just paces the small space, trying to calm himself down. 

He doesn’t know what to do, but before he knows it, his phone is in his hand, ringing, and then Sam’s voice is speaking clearly in his ear. “ _Dean? What’s up, man? Everything ok?_ ” 

He doesn’t respond at first, because he honestly doesn’t know how. Sam doesn’t know that he’s spending the holiday with the Novaks – hell, Sam doesn’t even know yet that Dean is seeing both twins. It’s something that he hasn’t yet had the will or opportunity really to explain to his brother. He knows that Sam would listen – be understanding even – but this is neither the time, nor the place, so Dean just tries to pass the call off as a butt-dial or a drunken mistake, whatever Sam will believe. 

“Hey, man! Sorry, I meant to call Charlie.”

“ _Charlie? Isn’t she out of town with Dorothy?_ ” Right. Shit. Dean forgot about that. 

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course!” Damn it! Well, he probably does sound drunk, maybe he can go that route. “Sorry, man… guess I had a few too many. I’ll just let you go-“

“ _Are you sure you’re alright, Dean? What’s going on?_ ” Fuck. Leave it to Sam to pick up on his distress and be all concerned brother right now. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Sam.” The lie feels heavy on his tongue and Dean closes his eyes in an attempt to pretend that he’s anywhere but where he is right now. It’s difficult though – he can’t see the dingy gas station bathroom, but he can surely smell it. “I guess I just wanted to talk to someone. You know how I get sometimes.” God, he sounds pathetic. 

He hears Sam sigh and then pause a moment before he speaks. “ _I can come back, Dean. I knew it was a bad idea to leave during the holiday-_ “

“No, Sam. I’m the one who told you to go. I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself. I can make my own decisions.” He wishes that he sounded even halfway as confident as he wants to be about that, but given his current situation, Dean’s just glad that he hasn’t broken down and begged Sam to come back home… and maybe pick him up on the way. He’s really not looking forward to going back out to that car. 

“ _I never said that you couldn’t, Dean…_ ” He sighs again and then Dean hears a soft, feminine voice in the background. 

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. You’ll be back in a few days. Hey, we can put up the tree this weekend – maybe get some shopping done?”

“ _You know you always leave your Christmas shopping until the last minute, Dean,_ ” Sam says with a laugh.

Dean can’t help but chuckle too – his brother knows him so well. “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I?” Even though nothing has changed, Dean still feels better just having spoken with Sam. And he can’t hide in here forever, no matter how much he may want to. “Alright, I’m gonna let you go. Give Sarah a kiss for me… and don’t forget to have some pie on Thursday so you can tell me all about it!” 

He hears Sam make a gagging noise in the background and it makes him laugh again. “ _Gross, jerk._ ” 

“You know you love me, Bitch,” Dean replies. 

“ _Yeah, I do,_ ” Sam says simply. “ _Talk to you later, Dean._ ” 

“Bye, Sam.” Dean disconnects the call and slips the phone back in his pocket. He goes to the sink and splashes some cold water on his face and thinks that he might finally be ready to go back out and face the world. 

When he walks out of the shop, he sees that both brothers are waiting for him outside the Impala – Jimmy has his chin resting on his arms on the top of the car over on the passenger’s side, and Cas is pacing back and forth with his hands shoved in his pockets on the driver’s side. They both stand tall when he walks near, but neither speaks, both presumably waiting for Dean to say something first. 

“Get in,” he says, opening his own door and sliding inside. The twins are quick to follow and Dean wastes no time in starting her up. “We’ve still got an hour to go.”

The twins are silent again, but this time it isn’t so oppressive. They’ve lost their defensive postures and Dean can tell that they’re still waiting on him to set the tone for the remainder of the ride. 

“Look,” he begins, trying not to let anger and frustration color his tone too much. “It was a bad idea for me to invite both of you to drive with me. I wasn’t thinking, alright? I’m sorry.” He looks at both Cas and Jimmy in turn and he doesn’t receive any scathing looks so he takes that as a win. 

Cas is the first to respond and Dean’s not really surprised by that, or by what the elder Novak has to say. “I’m sorry too, Dean. It was very kind of you to offer to drive both of us. You didn’t have to do that. I appreciate it.” 

Dean just nods and makes a noise in acceptance before turning to Jimmy to see what he has to say. It’s obvious that he isn’t quite so keen to be conciliatory, but Dean can tell that he doesn’t want to be outdone by his brother, so his words are at least polite. 

“Me too,” Jimmy says, though it looks as though it pains him to say as much. “I’m sorry too.” 

Dean clears his throat pointedly when he sees Cas narrow his eyes at his brother in the review mirror, but Cas doesn’t say anything so he lets it slide and speaks to the car at large. “Ok, so we’re all sorry,” he says. “So why don’t we all just continue to play nice and maybe we’ll get through the next few days more or less in one piece?” 

Getting nods of agreement from matching dark heads (one perhaps somewhat more grudging than the other), Dean nods as well and turns the volume back up on the stereo. 

Yep. This is going to be awesome. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they finally do arrive in the Novak’s neighborhood in Pontiac, Dean is taken aback somewhat by what he sees. Really he shouldn’t be. It’s not like Dean doesn’t know that the Novaks are swimming in money, but somehow when he heard that their family seat, so to speak, was in a relatively small town in rural Illinois, he thought that it would be, well, small… or smallish, at least. 

But this monstrosity is anything but. The whole neighborhood is lavish by any standard, and the Novak mansion (he can’t think of it as anything else) appears to be the biggest of the bunch. 

“Don’t pull into the round-about, Dean. Pull into the driveway around the side. There should be a spot for you in the garage,” Cas says, guiding Dean to the appropriate entryway. 

“More like _one_ of the garages,” Dean mutters under his breath. 

“What was that,” Cas asks.

“Oh, uh… just here you said?” he asks, trying to cover up his uncontrollable judgement. Seriously, who needs a house this big? 

“Yes, pull up right there and I’ll punch in the code.” 

Dean does as he’s bid, stopping in front of one of the five, count ‘em - _five_ , garage doors. Cas gets out and shuts the door behind him before walking up to the door and punching in a code on a keypad. The door opens smoothly and Dean pulls Baby in between a shiny silver Mercedes, and a sporty, red Porsche. 

Dean turns off the engine and both he and Jimmy exit the vehicle, coming around the back to join Cas near the trunk. They gather their belongings and then head through a door that leads down a hall and into the main entryway to the house. Dean silently thinks this is probably one of those times when the words ‘grand foyer’ could be used unironically, but he sure as shit isn’t going to be the one to say it. 

“Just put your bags down here,” Jimmy says. Then suddenly there are two uniformed servants meeting them in the room, greeting them politely and taking their coats. “Put his things in my room,” Jimmy says to one of them, gesturing at Dean. Dean chances a look at Cas, who is already showing his displeasure with that decision but Jimmy just gives him a challenging look, daring Cas to say something. It seems as though at least one of them have learned their lesson from the trip here (at least for now) though, so Cas decides to hold his tongue. 

“Very good, sir,” answers one of the servants, taking Dean’s duffle. “The rest of the family is in the drawing room.” 

Drawing room? Jesus Christ, Dean is officially out of his element. He suddenly wonders if he’s going to be able to tell which fork to use to stab himself in the leg as an excuse to get out of here, but then the twins are walking through an archway into another room and Dean has to hurry to keep up… no turning back now. 

“Castiel! James! So glad you finally made it!” A small man with graying brown hair and bright blue eyes walks up to the twins and hugs them each in turn, then turns his attention on Dean. His smile doesn’t falter when he says, “And this must be Dean.” 

Dean holds his hand out to shake saying, “Dean Winchester. It’s good to meet you, sir.” But the man (who must be Charles Novak, pariach of the family) bypasses his hand completely and draws Dean into a hug – made awkward by the fact that Dean wasn’t expecting it. 

“None of that ‘sir’ stuff here, Dean. Call me chuck. And welcome! Would you like a drink?” Chuck turns back to the rest of the room’s inhabitants (Dean and the twins appear to be the last to arrive), sitting around in various chairs and couches, walking straight for a drinks cart which is situated off to one side, underneath a large painting of the family. The only person missing in the room now is a short blonde woman with golden eyes that bears a remarkable resemblance to Gabriel. “What’s your poison, Dean?” Chuck asks, drawing Dean’s attention away from the painting and back to the smiling man. 

“Oh, uh, whisky?” he says, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“You sure about that, Dean-o?” Gabriel says, smirking from his place on a love seat where he’s seated next to Damon. “Doesn’t sound like you’re sure. Maybe you’d like to try a couple of different drinks, see which one you like best?”

“ _Gabriel…_ " Cas warns, throwing his brother a narrow-eyed glare.  


“Oh, who am I kidding,” Gabe continues, seemingly unaffected by Cas’s threat. “You’d probably just drink both, wouldn’t you, Dean?”

He didn’t think it possible to feel more out of place than he already does, but apparently he was wrong. Gabriel’s words are really nothing more than he deserves, but he wishes that he hadn’t said them in front of their father – Dean has only met the man and he’s already behind on the good impression front. Seriously, why can’t someone just yell ‘fire!’ so Dean can get the fuck out of here? 

“Gabriel, that’s enough,” Chuck says, a thousand times more stern than he’s been thus far. The smile is gone and his blue eyes take on a steely quality that Dean has seen quite a few times on the twins – apparently they get that from their father. 

Surprisingly (to Dean at least), Gabriel actually does heed his father’s word, swallowing down any further comment that he may want to make in favor of sipping on his own, bright-colored drink. 

“Here you go, Dean,” Chuck says, handing Dean a tumbler full of amber liquid, smile firmly back in place. “I hope single-malt is ok? Why don’t you have a seat?” 

“Sure, fine,” Dean answers awkwardly, scanning the room for a place to sit. The only place left is on a sofa between Cas and Jimmy (of course it is), so Dean takes it – perching stiffly on the edge of the cushion and trying not to lean more one way or the other. “Thank you,” he finally remembers to say, gesturing with his glass aloft, before taking a considerable swig. It only burns a tiny amount on the way down – definitely not the rot-gut that he’s used to drinking. 

The group spends about a half an hour making small talk, but it’s getting late, so soon enough most are taking their leave and turning in for the night. Dean stands to follow Jimmy but Cas stays behind talking with Balthazar and Dean wishes that it could be the other way around.

Something ugly and jealous twists like a knife in his gut when he watches them lean closer together so that Cas can hear what Balthazar is saying in an undertone. Cas’s answering smile is another twist of the knife, but before he can do something foolish, like punch Balthazar in his smirking face, Jimmy tugs lightly on his arm and asks, “Dean? Are you coming?” so Dean has no choice but to follow, really. 

They head upstairs and down a long hallway, ending up at the second to last door. The last door is situated at the very end – it’s closed, like most of the others. The room they enter is a large bedroom, a queen-sized bed with an impressive frame in the middle of the room. 

“There’s a bathroom right across the hall,” Jimmy says, walking over to a large closet and beginning to remove his suit. Dean removes his toiletry bag from his duffle and crosses the hall to make use of the aforementioned bathroom. He doesn’t take long and when he returns, Jimmy is standing at a chest of drawers in a pair of pajama pants and a white t-shirt, removing his watch and placing it in a box on the dresser. “Be right back,” he says as he passes Dean, stopping briefly to give him a quick kiss. 

Dean changes into his own, similar outfit and then sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for Jimmy to return. When he does, closing and locking the door behind him, Dean gestures to the bed and says, “I didn’t know which side you preferred.” 

Jimmy clicks off the overhead light, leaving only a lamp on one of the nightstands to brighten the room, and then he slowly walks up to stand in front of Dean. He places a hand on Dean’s head and runs his fingers back through his hair, then places one knee, then the other on either side of Dean’s thighs, straddling him on the bed. 

“I like this side just fine,” he says, leaning forward to kiss Dean, slow and deep. Dean can’t help but respond, gripping his hands reflexively over Jimmy’s hips and opening his mouth to Jimmy’s questing tongue. 

He pulls back after a few moments though and leans his forehead against Jimmy’s chest, breathing slow and deep, trying to calm his warring thoughts. 

“Are you alright, Dean?” Jimmy asks. He’s still running his fingers tenderly through Dean’s hair, but otherwise has stopped trying to move things along. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Jimmy. Just tired. It’s been a long day.” Jimmy hums in agreement and climbs off of Dean’s lap, then crawls over to lie down on the other side, wiggling down under the covers when he does so. 

“Come on, then,” he says, gesturing Dean to join him. He obliges, standing up long enough to pull back the bedding and slide inside, scooting over until Jimmy is within touching distance. Jimmy turns on his side and nestles back against Dean, pulling Dean’s arm over to hold him around the waist. 

Den wiggles around, getting comfortable, and that’s when he realizes… “Hey, is this a memory foam mattress?”

“Um… yes…” Jimmy answers, sounding like he really doesn’t like the answer that he is giving. 

“Then why the hell were you making such a big fuss out of-“

“Go to sleep, Dean,” Jimmy interrupts. He reaches up to turn off the lamp and then punches his pillow before thumping his head back down and huffing loudly. He doesn’t say any more on the subject so Dean keeps quiet, closing his eyes and trying desperately to fall asleep. 

Sleep doesn’t come, though. Soon enough, Jimmy’s breathing has evened out into a deep sleep, but Dean’s mind just won’t shut off. He’s physically exhausted but he just can’t stop _thinking_ , and when he finally looks at the clock he sees that it’s almost 1:00 he decides that he can’t just lie here any longer. 

So he gets up carefully and tip-toes to the door, opening it slowly and going out to the hall. The door at the end of the hall is open now and Dean glances in long enough to see that it’s some sort of office (or study, Dean thinks, his brain supplying the fancy rich-people word for the room) and that Cas is there, sitting in front of a crackling fire and speaking to someone that Dean can’t see. 

Cas can see Dean though, and when he does, he gives him a long, lingering look before turning his attention back to the person out of sight. Dean continues on across the hall and into the bathroom, but he doesn’t close the door all the way – instead choosing to leave it just short of latching, then proceeds to strip out of his clothes and start up the shower.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“So just remember what I said, son.” 

“Hm?” Castiel has been distracted for the last quarter of an hour – ever since he saw Dean walk out of Jimmy’s room and enter the bathroom across the hall. He had expected Dean to make a short trip and then return to Jimmy’s room again. But instead, shortly after entering the bathroom, Castiel had heard the noise of the shower start up and Dean has yet to leave it. 

“Castiel?”

“Yes, father, of course.” Castiel is trying to pay attention to what his father is saying, but it’s proving extremely difficult due to the slucing sound of the water in the room next door. Dean is in there… naked. Naked and wet and God damn it all to Hell – he’s starting to get an erection in front of his father. Crossing his legs in an attempt to hide his shame, Castiel attempts to focus on the stalwart figure in front of him instead of the beguiling one, one room over. “You were saying?”

His father sighs, glancing once toward the wall that separates the two rooms, and then back to Castiel sitting in front of him. “Go on, son. I know you want to.” 

Castiel feels himself blush, but it doesn’t stop him from placing his empty glass down upon the tabletop in front of him and then stand to leave. He gets only a step though before his father’s hand comes down gently around his wrist, stopping him from moving any further. 

“Just make sure you know the answer to one question, Castiel… Is winning so important that you would risk damaging, perhaps forever, the relationship that you have with your brother?” He lets go of Castiel’s wrist but he doesn’t yet move – he just continues to look into his father’s imploring face while he thinks about what he just said. 

Because it’s not about _winning_ … at least not for Castiel, not really. It’s about love. Castiel loves Dean – just as sure as he loves his twin. It’s a different kind of love, yes, but does that make it any less strong, or real? 

And if he actually does have to choose between them (which seems more and more likely with every passing day), if Jimmy will really never forgive him, what then? Is he willing to live the rest of his life as enemies with the brother with whom he once counted as his closest friend? 

But he can’t truly believe it. He’s confident that his brother will forgive him eventually. He has to. There just isn’t any other outcome possible in Castiel’s mind. Because he can’t give Dean up and he won’t lose Jimmy either. So everything will just have to work itself out eventually. It will have to.

Castiel knows that the question was rhetorical though, so he doesn’t bother trying to answer out loud. Instead he simply says, “Goodnight, father,” and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

He sees that Dean has left the bathroom door slightly ajar and that little detail sends a thrill through Castiel that he’s eager to chase. He makes a quick detour first though, peeking his head into Jimmy’s room to make sure that his brother is asleep and not up waiting for Dean’s return. 

Jimmy is out for the count so Castiel enters the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He can see Dean through the glass walls of the shower stall and he takes a minute just to gaze upon the sheer perfection that is Dean Winchester – naked body slick with water, and blond head bowed away from Castiel under the steady spray. 

He has one hand braced against the tile wall and he lifts his head momentarily to turn and look at Castiel. He doesn’t say anything, or even register a bit of surprise at Castiel’s presence. Instead he simply turns his head back down and continues to let the warm water sluice over the back of his neck and down over his lightly freckled shoulder. 

Taking his silence for the invitation that it is, Castiel quickly disrobes and opens the glass shower door to step in behind Dean. The small enclosure is shrouded in steam from the heat of the water – much warmer than Castiel had originally assumed – but it isn’t stifling. 

Castiel is already half hard just from the thought of Dean. The reality is even better than he had imagined and it only takes the gentle caress of his large hands over the warm slickness of Dean’s skin to have him fully erect and a bit light-headed at the sudden rush of blood and hormones running through his body. 

He steps in closer and begins to place slow, lingering kisses over the broad expanse of Dean’s back, but Dean doesn’t lose his tense posture. Castiel steps back a ways and squeezes out a handful of body wash from a nearby bottle then proceeds to massage it into the tight muscles of Dean’s back and shoulders. 

After some little time Dean does appear to relax. He lifts his head and takes a step back so that he’s snug up against Castiel’s front – head dropped back to rest on Castiel’s shoulder, ass pushed back to rub teasingly over the length of Castiel’s hard dick. 

And Castiel would like nothing more than to just push inside the tight heat of Dean’s ass – crowd him up against the shower wall and fuck him hard and deep until he screams. But he can’t… at least not right now. Right now he needs to make sure that Dean’s ok. Make sure that his needs are met, and that he knows how much Castiel cares for him. 

So he wraps his arms around Dean’s chest and simply holds him – squeezing firmly until the other man sighs and slumps even more languidly against him. “I’m sorry,” Castiel says. And he means it. He wishes he hadn’t reacted so poorly earlier; wishes that he hadn’t fought with Jimmy. It was childish, and unnecessary, and only ended up hurting Dean. 

“It’s ok, Cas,” Dean responds. He sounds so defeated and it breaks Castiel’s heart. 

“No, it’s not ok,” Castiel assures him. “You were trying to do something nice and I reacted like a petulant child. It was completely uncalled for.” 

“Yeah, well, you weren’t the only one.” Some of that lost tension is back in Dean’s posture again when he alludes to Jimmy.

“True. But I can only speak for myself and I am sorry, Dean… truly.” Dean sighs again, gently this time, and brings his arms up to cover Castiel’s where they’re still clinging tightly to Dean’s midsection.

“I forgive you, Cas.” Dean’s words are brief, but they’re honest, the truth evident in the hearty squeeze of his arms and the way he nuzzles the side of his face under Castiel’s jaw. 

“Thank you, Dean. I’ll try to do better in the future. But for now…” He catches Dean’s lips with his own, kissing him deeply while turning Dean’s body around and pushing his back gently up against the side wall of the shower stall. They kiss for several long moments but when Dean reaches his hand down to wrap around Castiel’s hard cock, Castiel stops him.

Dean opens his eyes and furrows his brow in confusion, but instead of speaking, Castiel chooses instead to slide down to his knees and place gently kisses up the sensitive skin of Dean’s inner thighs. He spares a glance at Dean, who is looking somewhat surprised. 

It’s not like Castiel never goes down on Dean, it’s just that when he does, there’s usually still a sense that Castiel is the one in charge – giving Dean pleasure on his own terms, and equally capable of taking it away at any moment. It works for them – Dean easily slipping into a submissive role when they’re together – but that’s not what Castiel wants this time. He wants only to give Dean whatever he wants… anything he wants. 

So he takes Dean’s hardened length in his hand and strokes him, then leans forward and licks the swollen head, causing Dean to moan and thunk his head back momentarily against the tiles. The hot spray of the water is beating down upon Castiel’s back, washing away the sweat that is prickling his skin. 

“ _Cas…_ ” Dean’s pleasured moans increase in volume as Castiel takes Dean’s cock down deep into his mouth, alternating in speed and suction. He smooths his hands up and down Dean’s thighs and down over his ass, using the leverage to pull Dean all the way down into his throat and then swallows. It makes Dean’s knees buckle but Castiel is quick to steady him with hands on his hips. 

He pulls all the way off then, just to take a moment to look up at Dean with what he’s sure is a completely adoring face. He doesn’t think he could love the man anymore if he tried, he’s already so gone on him. He smiles softly and then places a loving kiss to Dean’s hip. Before he can go back to his self-appointed task of making Dean feel good, the man himself looks back at him with his own lust-dark intensity and catches Castiel’s cheek in one rough palm. The gesture is gentle though – a light caress against the rasp of wet stubble on his face. 

“I…” Dean speaks one single word and then closes his eyes tightly, visibly holding himself back from the emotion that Castiel can see trying to fight its way out. When he opens his eyes again, they’re slightly reddened and perhaps a little bit wet. He reaches down and pulls Castiel to his feet and crushes their lips together before pulling back again and resting his forehead against Castiel’s. “I _need_ you, Cas…” 

“You have me, Dean. All of me.” They go back to kissing and Castiel slides a hand down Dean’s chest to take them both in hand, using their combined pre-come to ease the glide as he strokes them firmly. Castiel’s heart is beating heavily in his chest and he can feel Dean’s as well – the rapid beats like the wings of a hummingbird trapped in a cage. 

Castiel feels himself getting close, and from the sounds Dean is making, he’s sure that he’s almost there as well. “ _Please…_ ” Dean begs. “ _Please, please, please… Cas…_ ”

“Shh, Dean, it’s alright, sweetheart. You’re alright.” Castiel slows down the speed of his strokes – a deliberate tease to try to ease the overwhelming tension that he can feel in Dean. The sharp bite of Dean’s nails in the skin of his back slackens, but he can hear a short, choked-off sob in one ear where Dean is burying his face against Castiel’s neck. 

“I- I… Cas, I…”

“I know, Dean. Me too…” Castiel tightens his grip and speeds up again and it’s only a few moments before Dean tenses his arms around him again and comes – spilling hot and thick between their stomachs and over Castiel’s hand. Dean’s pure pleasure is just the thing that Castiel needs to follow him in ecstasy and then he’s shooting his own load to mix with Dean’s. 

Each man’s face is buried in the other’s neck and for a couple of minutes that’s how they remain – bodies stilling and hearts slowing, the only sound the steady stream of warm water that’s beating down over their heated skin. 

Castiel moves first but Dean is soon to follow. They look at each other and smile, then kiss tenderly. They’re quiet as they go about finishing their shower – cleaning each other tenderly with soap and shampoo, sharing soft kisses and adoring looks until they’re done. It’s not until they’re out and dried off, redressed and ready to leave the bathroom that either of them speaks. 

“I- I know that I have no right to ask, but…” Dean is blushing faintly, obviously nervous about voicing the question that’s on his mind. “Are you sleeping alone tonight?”

Castiel answers without thinking. “Unless you’ll be joining me…?” Dean avoids his gaze and it’s obvious that he’ll be spending the rest of the night in Jimmy’s room, so it takes Castiel a moment to figure out what he’s really asking. “Oh! I assume you’re referring to Balthazar?” 

Dean puts a hand up and rubs the back of his neck and just shrugs, meeting Castiel’s eye and then quickly looking down again. It warms his heart a bit to know that Dean is jealous of the man but he doesn’t want him to worry, or to think that Castiel is seeking affection elsewhere, so he steps in close and puts one hand on Dean’s hip and uses the other to tip his face up to meet his green gaze. 

“Balthazar has his own room, Dean, and if he chooses to make his way into someone else’s bed during this trip, it won’t be mine, alright?” Dean nods, a look of relief unable to stay hidden in his expression. “Now, I know that _you_ won’t be sharing my bed tonight, but tomorrow…?”

“Yeah, tomorrow, absolutely,” Dean responds, nodding his head eagerly. 

“Good. Because you’re all mine tomorrow, understood?” Castiel gives him a stern look, but Dean simply responds with a cocky smirk.

“Loud and clear, baby.” And there’s that word again. Castiel tries not to let it bother him too much because he really does like it when Dean calls him that. But it’s a little hard to stomach when he remembers that it’s also what he calls Jimmy. 

“Alright. Now get your firm behind back to bed and get some sleep. You’re going to need your rest for dealing with my brothers tomorrow.”

“Ugh… don’t remind me,” Dean says, covering up a yawn and letting his shoulders slump with obvious exhaustion. 

He turns to open the door but Castiel stops him and pulls him back around, pushing him up against the wall and kissing him passionately before breaking it off and whispering, “See you in the morning, Dean.” 

Dean looks stunned and Castiel just smirks and steps around him, opening the door and exiting the room. He walks just a few steps down the hall, to the room right next to Jimmy’s and pauses before entering, looking back to see Dean staring after him. He gives the man a quick wink and then enters his own bedroom, closing the door shut behind him.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so... three days is going to be more than three chapters. It's only the morning of day two and two chapters are completed, so I'm actually not sure how many there will be. 
> 
> Anyway, I haven't read enough fics with Cas and Dean swimming, so here's Cas and Dean swimming! 
> 
> p.s. I haven't proofread this chapter but I've got stuff to do tonight and I wanted to get it posted, so I'll go back and read it again later to make sure there's nothing funky with the writing.

It took Dean several hours to get to sleep, tossing and turning the whole time. Jimmy either didn’t notice or didn’t care because he never said a word. 

Dean knew the cause of his restlessness. Cas was only one room away and Dean wanted to be there with him. He’d work himself up into almost slipping out of Jimmy’s bed and joining Cas instead, but at the last moment he wouldn’t. He’d shared a bed with Jimmy countless nights, but for some reason, this time felt different. 

But he had agreed to this arrangement, and this night specifically so he felt that he had to stay. Tomorrow would be Cas’s night so Dean would just have to keep that in mind and try to get some sleep. 

It must have worked because now the sun is streaming in through the window and Dean can feel Jimmy sitting up on the other side of the bed. 

“Gotta pee,” he says groggily, running a hand over his face and through his messy hair. He gets up without any further ado and stumbles through the door and across the hall to the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind him. 

Dean stays lying down and closes his eyes again. He hadn’t even gotten four hours and he kind of just wants to go back to sleep. Instead, a gentle knocking startles him to full attention and he opens his eyes to see Cas leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile on his face. 

“Morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” He looks like he’s trying really hard not to cross the room and join Dean on the bed, and Dean can’t blame him; his hands are starting to itch at just the thought of smoothing them over Cas’s sleep-warmed skin. 

He throws the covers off and stretches languidly, reaching his arms up over his head on the pillow and arching his back to not only let his t-shirt ride up and show his stomach, but also to accentuate the slight bulge of his morning wood. Dean smirks when Cas’s eyes track the motion and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably and his tongue darting out to unconsciously lick his lips. 

“Didn’t sleep much at all,” Dean says. He takes pity on the poor man and gets out of bed, stalking across the room like a jungle cat until they’re face to face, standing in the open doorway. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Cas doesn’t waste any words on a response. Instead he simply leans forward and pins Dean’s body to the doorframe with his own, his tongue insistent in Dean’s mouth (despite the morning breath), and his half-hard cock pressing firmly against Dean’s own.

They break apart when they hear the toilet flush. The sink turns on for a moment and then back off again, and then Jimmy opens the door and halts at the sight of his brother’s presence. 

“I came to invite Dean to go swimming,” Cas says, looking at Dean while he does so. “Since I know you don’t care for the activity, I-“

“Who says I don’t ‘care’ for swimming? I’ve always liked swimming.” Cas gives Jimmy a look that says, _bullshit_ , but doesn’t push the matter, instead looking back to Dean and waiting patiently for a response. 

“I mean, yeah, I love swimming. I didn’t bring any trunks, though…” 

Cas looks like he’s about to speak but Jimmy buts in with, “He can borrow some of mine.” And then he pushes Dean back through the door into the bedroom, follows him in, and then slams the door behind him, clicking the lock into place. 

“Where are we going to swim?” Dean asks. “It’s like, ball-freezing weather outside.” 

Jimmy walks over to his dresser and pulls out two pairs of swim trunks, and then tosses them onto the foot of the bed. “Here,” he says distractedly, walking over to stand in front of Dean. 

“What?” Dean asks, not quite sure what he means when he says that. Is he asking him to get closer? They’re already standing about half a foot apart. 

“We’re going to swim here,” Jimmy clarifies. “We have an indoor pool. It’s warm all year round.” 

“Oh.” Dean doesn’t know what else to say to that. Of course the Rockefellers here have an indoor pool. What else do they have, Dean wonders. Amusement park? Stables? Movie theater? Actually, that last one might be pretty cool. Dean’s seen some awesome home theaters on those makeover shows or whatever. 

He had been aware that Jimmy had been undressing himself, and then Dean while he silently ruminated on the architectural design of the super wealthy, but it isn’t until they are both naked and Jimmy starts kissing his neck and places a hand on Dean’s cock that he realizes what is going on. 

“Hey, whatcha doin’ there, Jimmy?” Dean asked. He covers Jimmy’s hand with his own to stop his stroking, but it doesn’t deter him from continuing his attention on Dean’s neck. 

“Jerking you off… or trying to, at least. What does it look like I’m doing?” His hands strays back to Dean’s cock (which, despite himself, is starting to take a marked interest) and Dean is a little slower to remove it this time, but remove it, he does. 

“Why now, though? I thought we were going swimming. Cas is waiting for us.” Jimmy’s wandering hand rises up to join his other around the back of Dean’s neck. Dean winds his arms around Jimmy’s waist and Jimmy takes the opportunity to move even closer, this time caressing Dean’s cock with his own hardening length. 

“Cas can wait. Want you to fuck me, Dean. Wanted it for days, now. _Need it…_ ” 

Dean stands there contemplating what to do while Jimmy continues to grind himself against Dean. On the one hand, it has been quite a long time since they’ve had penetrative sex and yeah, Dean could probably go for that right about now… at least his dick is rather enthusiastic about the idea. 

On the other hand, Cas is waiting for him. Cas is out there somewhere waiting for him to show up and if he doesn’t come soon, Cas may come looking for him. And even if he doesn’t, with the amount of time it would take for even a quick fuck, they’ll show up suspiciously late and Cas will just _know_. 

And Dean can’t do that to him, not to Cas. Not today, when he’d promised that he would belong only to Cas today. So he tries once again to get Jimmy to stop his ministrations. “Jimmy, come on, man. We can’t do that now. We don’t have the time to prepare you properly and I wouldn’t want to hurt you. Tomorrow, maybe… or the next day?”

Jimmy huffs and turns to stalk to the bed to retrieve one of the pairs of swim trunks. Dean follows and pulls on the other pair. Dean is larger than both of the twins, overall, but he’s narrower through the hips and thighs so the trunks actually fit him pretty well.

“Fine,” Jimmy says sullenly. “But you don’t know what you’re missing, buddy. I was going to let you do unspeakable things to me.” 

Dean finishes tying the drawstring and then pulls Jimmy around to face him. “Hey… I know exactly what I’m missing so you’ll appreciate just how hard it is for me to deny you.” He gives Jimmy his patented Dean Winchester lopsided grin with additional wink thrown in for free and it appears to do the trick. Jimmy blushes the tiniest bit and gives his own small smile so Dean pulls him in and kisses him breathless. 

It’s easy enough after that to get Jimmy to amiably show him the way to the indoor pool, down on the ground floor, and Jesus! It’s not Olympic-sized, but it’s still pretty fucking huge, and there’s also a hot tub and…nice, a sauna tucked back into the corner. The whole room is constructed like a greenhouse, which is convenient because along the long side of the space there is a comfortable looking sitting area with small tables and cushioned chairs, with all kinds of lush, green plant life interspersed here and there. Dean feels like he’s in the botanical gardens or something, and he can quite honestly say that it’s one of the coolest places that he’s ever been. 

“Glad you boys could join us!” Chuck exclaims from one of the chairs. A uniformed servant walks forward and hands them each a champagne glass with orange juice. Dean thanks her and takes a sip and oh, there’s booze in there too… ok then, Dean could get used to this kind of treatment. 

“Good morning, father. Sleep well?” Jimmy asks. He downs his own drink in two long sips so Dean follows suit. The servant takes their empty glasses and offers two more but they both wave them away. It’s a bit early in the day to get hammered. 

“Like the dead,” Chuck responds. Dean sees Cas across the room, sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet dangling in the water – hair and body already wet – and Dean kind of wants to lick all the water droplets off of his naked chest. He gives Jimmy a quick kiss on the cheek and then leaves him to converse with his father. Other family members and guests are beginning to trickle in as well so they won’t be alone for long. 

There’s a diving board near where Cas is sitting so Dean climbs up and assumes a position as if to dive, but right before, he gives Cas a sly wink and jumps – performing a perfect cannon ball which results in a huge splash, perfectly aimed to drench Cas where he sits. 

Dean surfaces, laughing even before he sees Cas wiping the water out of his eyes and looking like a drown cat. He’s smiling, so Dean knows that he’s forgiven. He also knows that Cas will provide more than sufficient payback though, so he swims in the other direction as quickly as he can.

Apparently it isn’t fast enough because before he can reach the ladder on the other side of the pool, Cas grabs him around the waist and pulls him under water after a moment so that he can take a breath. He doesn’t hold him there, though. He pulls him back up and swim-drags him the last couple of feet to the pool wall. He gently pushes Dean’s back against the wall, close enough so that he can grab onto the metal ladder to hold himself up and then he boxes Dean in with his own arms. 

“Damn, you’re fast, baby.” Cas gives him a knowing smile, which Dean returns, and then Cas rubs his body up against Dean’s in a very fluid manner. “Are you part seal, Cas?” Dean runs his free hand through Cas’s silky, black hair and wraps his legs around Cas’s hips. Cas drops his face against Dean’s shoulder, clearly having trouble holding himself back from ravaging Dean right then and there. 

It doesn’t stop Dean from shifting his hips so that their clothed cocks rub together. It’s so different from earlier with Jimmy; so much more electric. He’s buzzing with exhilaration when they’re rudely interrupted by the sound of Gabriel’s voice and Dean remembers that they’re far from alone here. 

“So, Jimbo, how many mimosas is that for you?” Dean turns his head to look across the room and watches as Jimmy slams the entire contents of a champagne glass in one go. He tries to ignore the fact that Jimmy is clearly upset. He knew when he agreed to attend this trip that he’d have to do his best to compartmentalize if he wanted to make it through. So he stays where he is and gives Cas what he hopes is a reassuring smile, but Cas must see his discomfort because he gives him a moderate kiss and then pulls away to start swimming laps. 

Damon is accompanying Gabriel and they both take a champagne glass and exchange pleasantries with Chuck before bypassing everything else and heading straight for the hot tub. Michael and Balthazar are soon to follow. Michael joins his father and Jimmy at a small table and Balthazar makes his way over to the hot tub to join Damon and Gabriel (no surprise there, Dean thinks). 

The hot tub is close enough to where Dean is still treading water in the deep end that he can hear and converse with the trio assembled there. “Come on, Dean-o! Come join the fun crowd! There’s still plenty of room.”

“Pass,” Dean says, letting himself sink backward so that he can float peacefully in the warm water, the unseasonably blue sky drawing his eye and calming his nerves. He hears Gabriel say something else, but it’s garbled since his ears are underwater. He knows that it isn’t important, and it’s probably insulting to boot, so he just closes his eyes and floats on the gentle waves that Cas is making while he swims. 

He should have known better than to let his guard down after what he had done to Cas not ten minutes ago, but it still comes as a surprise when he feels hands come up from underneath him, tickling his sides (where he’s extra sensitive). He flails and gets water up his nose and then Cas is laughing and splashing his face before he swims away again. 

Dean shouts, “Hey!” and swims after him but damn! That guy is fast! He may actually be part seal, or dolphin maybe? He catches up with him when he hits the ladder and Dean grabs him around the middle and pulls him back into the water, dunking his head in the process. When he comes back up sputtering Dean says, “How do you like it, Flipper?”

He pushes Dean back against the wall again like he had done before and responds, “I like it just fine,” before kissing him and then pulling back to laugh again. Dean loves to hear Cas laugh. Don’t get him wrong, Jimmy’s laugh is heartwarming and contagious, but making Cas laugh makes Dean feel like he’s accomplished something big in life. Cas doesn’t laugh as much as Jimmy, but when he does, Dean can’t help but covet the happiness that’s he’s pulled out of the more stoic man. Dean could probably spend the rest of his life making Cas laugh and at the end of it, consider it a life well lived. 

“Are we missing the party?” Dean and Cas (as well as everyone else in the room) turn their heads to see Lucifer entering the room with a tall, thin blonde in a bikini on his arm. Cas’s laugh cuts off abruptly and Dean can’t help but think that there’s something about this new development that he’s missing. 

“Lucifer,” Michael says with obvious coldness in his tone. “I wasn’t aware that you were bringing a guest.” 

“Ah, well, that’s because I’m not entitled to tell you everything about my personal life, dear brother. Besides, it was a last-minute decision.” Lucifer walks his guest over to where Chuck is now standing, darting his eyes nervously between Michael and Lucifer. “Father, you remember Lilith.” 

“O-Of course… Um… welcome, Lilith. It’s nice that you could join us.” Chuck looks extremely uncomfortable and Gabriel’s unnatural silence is also telling. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Dean whispers into Cas’s ear, trying to make it look like he’s just showing some affection. 

“That’s Lilith. She used to be Michael’s girlfriend in college, but after one holiday trip home, she ended up leaving him for Lucifer. I was under the impression that he had stopped talking to her years ago. I guess I was wrong.” Dean feels something twist in his gut at that description of events. The parallel between those three and he and the twins is unmistakable and that doesn’t make him feel very good at all. 

Suddenly feeling chilled, Dean suggests that they spend some time in the hot tub and Cas agrees. They exit the pool just as Lucifer and Lilith enter it, and then Dean remembers his mistake when he takes one look at those already enjoying the hot tub. He soldiers bravely on though, sinking down into the steaming water and sitting next to Balthazar so that Cas can’t. He still doesn’t trust the guy, no matter what Cas says about his own disinterest.

“Well, this should make the next two days a bit more interesting,” Gabriel says, and Cas hums an agreement. 

They all sit in silence for a while, watching as Lucifer and Lilith frolic in the pool, not unlike Dean and Cas had been doing mere minutes before. It makes Dean even more uncomfortable and on edge so when Balthazar says, “Don’t worry, Dean… you two looked much cuter,” Dean feels rage, even hotter than the water in the hot tub, start boiling in his blood. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Balthazar merely smirks and takes a sip from his champagne glass. Dean wants to clock him one but he’s stopped from doing any such thing by Cas taking Dean’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers together under the water. 

He looks over and Cas is smiling at him like Balthazar hadn’t just besmirched his honor, and he deflates somewhat when Cas leans in and whispers, “He’s right, you know… you’re so much cuter, kitten.” The nickname quells Dean’s raging emotions enough for him to at least try to ignore the smug Frenchman, and he snuggles into Cas’s side, hooking their nearest ankles together so that more of their skin is touching. It’s grounding for Dean – Cas’s touch – and he’ll take it whenever he can get it. 

The next thing they know, Michael is walking over to the pool, stripping out of his shirt on the way and throwing it to the side. “Let’s go, Lucifer… out of the pool.” At first, Dean thinks that they’re going to fight and he doesn’t know whether to be excited or horrified by that, but instead Lucifer smirks and both he and Lilith get out of the pool, Lucifer joining Michael at the deep end. 

Lilith gets up and straddles the diving board while each brother takes up his position on either side. This must be a regular enough occurrence for most of the party to merely show interest, and not start to make some sort of protest. Lilith lifts both arms and says, “Take your mark… go!”

Lucifer and Michael both dive into the water and immediately start racing. They make it down to the other end at about the same time, but Lucifer seems to have some trouble turning around in the shallows so Michael makes it back much sooner. Several people in the room cheer and Michael grasps the diving board to pull himself up and steal a kiss from Lilith. He then pulls himself up out of the water and walks back to the tables, smirking at a stormy Lucifer and grabbing a towel along the way.

“Aw, come on, now. That was no challenge! Michael, you really need to race Cas if you want to call yourself a winner.” Cas just sits serenely, rubbing the palm of Dean’s hand with his thumb, refusing to comment. “But I guess I should know by now that no one would be foolish enough to challenge Cas in a race. He-“

“I’ll do it.” Everyone turns their attention to Jimmy, who has abandoned his sulking position to walk determinedly over to the deep end. “Well, come on. Are we doing this or not?” He shoos Lucifer and Lilith out of the way stares at Cas, the two of them having some sort of silent twin conversation. 

Eventually, Cas apparently agrees because he gets up out of the hot tub and walks over to take up his position on the other side of the diving board. 

“What are you waiting for, Dean? Get on up there!” The glint in Gabriel’s eye seems to be more than just mischief. There’s something dark there as well and it kind of frightens Dean… definitely makes him uncomfortable, at least. 

“What? No! I’m no fucking Rizzo. They can have their pissing contest without me.” 

“Get. Up. There.” The mischief is gone completely now, replaced with a dark threat that Dean can’t help but heed. He sure as shit isn’t going to be graceful about it though. 

“Fuck. Fine.” He walks over and climbs up onto the board, just like Lilith had done. He feels so fucking self-conscience like this – everyone’s eyes are on him and he kind of rather just jump in and sink to the bottom to avoid their gazes. But instead he looks between the twins and then lifts his hands, repeating the words that Lilith had said before, “Take your mark...” He looks once more between the brothers, hoping against hope that this will end in a tie, for all their sakes. “Go!” 

Right from the get go it’s clear who the better swimmer is. Cas’s dive is flawless and he sails through the water like a sexy torpedo, reaching the shallow end much sooner than Jimmy. He can see why apparently no one usually challenges him. Dean resolves to ask Cas later how many years he had been on the swim team in school and just how many medals he had accumulated. 

His turn around is perfect, even in the difficult depth of the shallow water, and he passes Jimmy before the other man even makes it to the far wall. Cas is hallway across the pool by the time Jimmy turns around in the shallows, but to Jimmy’s credit, he doesn’t give up. He’s not a bad swimmer, by any means. He could probably give Dean a run for his money. But he’s no match for his twin. Cas makes it back to the starting point and pulls himself up just like Michael had done. He holds himself up, by a show of strength, with one arm and pulls Dean down by the back of the neck to place an open-mouthed kiss to his stunned face. 

Jimmy is just getting back by the time Cas finishes kissing Dean, but before any of them can say or do anything else, Chuck stands up and shouts that brunch is served and Dean looks over to see that there’s a buffet table set up with chaffing dishes and everything over by the seating area. 

Everyone gets out of the water and makes their way over to eat, grabbing towels and drying themselves off on their way. No one seems too upset over the ostensibly friendly competition, but Dean doesn’t miss the death glare that Jimmy throws Cas’s way. Michael and Lucifer aren’t looking too friendly either, but no one is acting like this is anything out of the ordinary so Dean tries his best to keep calm and swallow down the nerves that have become his constant companions as of late. He’s still got today and tomorrow to get through so he needs to pace himself. Because he doesn’t think it’s going to get any easier anytime soon.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but it's mostly all smut, so... yay? There's a touch of angst and even fluff and humor too, though - 'cause, you know, it's how I do. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> The next chapter should be fun and I'll try to get it up soon. 
> 
> Hope you like this one!

The walk back to Castiel’s room after brunch is fraught with tension. It’s the good kind of tension though, Cas thinks, as he stalks behind Dean like a panther following his prey through the Amazonian jungle. The almost demure, but yet still challenging way that Dean looks back at him over his shoulder just makes it even more primal-feeling, and Castiel can feel his cock hardening in the confines of his damp swim trunks. 

He steps up his pace and Dean responds in kind – his hips swinging alluringly, exaggerating the sexy bowing of his legs. Suddenly, he thinks back to that first time he ever saw Dean – before he even knew who the man was – and remembers how he had wanted so badly to feel those legs wrapped around his waist. He’s felt it numerous times at this point, but it never fails to thrill him. If anything, it’s gotten to be even more exciting – the great depth of his feelings for Dean amplifying the physical sensations for both men. 

Given that Dean is in the lead in this pseudo chase, and also given the fact that this is the first time Dean’s ever been in this house, Castiel isn’t very surprised when his quarry takes a wrong turn into what he probably assumes is a hallway, but is in fact a large alcove. He quickly turns on his heel to head in the opposite direction, down the actual hallway, but fortunately for Castiel, he isn’t quite quick enough. 

Using his forward momentum, Castiel slams into Dean and reaches down enough to grasp him just below his ass – using his, frankly impressive, upper body strength to lift the taller man up and deposit him on the waist-high table that’s pushed up against the wall. 

In doing so, they knock a bust of some ancestor or other onto the floor (it’s bronze, so Castiel doesn’t give it a second thought) and upsets the oil painting that’s hanging on the wall (that one’s a little more worrisome, but Castiel’s so revved up with lust that he can’t really find it in himself to care much). 

“Thought you could outrun me, kitten?” Castiel asks, pausing to grind his hard cock up against Dean’s equally stiff length while nudging Dean’s head up so that he can begin an assault on the vulnerable flesh of his neck. “I would think that you’d know better than that by know.” 

Dean’s only response is to moan as Castiel continues to place large, open-mouthed kisses to the tight column of Dean’s throat. He wraps his legs around Castiel’s waist and winds his arms around his neck, pulling them impossibly closer with his fingers gripped tightly in the riotous mess of Cas’s dark locks. 

Their bodies do the speaking for them for a couple of minutes when Dean suddenly stiffens, straightening up and pulling Castiel’s head back with the grip on his hair. “Did you hear that?” he asks, and Castiel lets his grip on the man slacken while he stills to listen. “I think someone’s coming.” 

Castiel lets go completely and leans back out of the alcove to peer down the way in which they had come. He doesn’t see anyone; doesn’t hear anyone either, but apparently that’s not the point because Dean takes the opportunity of his distraction to hop down from the table and dart around Castiel’s body – outright sprinting towards the bedroom. 

He can hear Dean’s jubilant laughter floating after his retreating form and curses himself for being had, and then he’s off – his heart beating double-time as he follows in Dean’s wake. 

He reaches his bedroom mere moments after Dean and he spares only a second to kick the door shut before he pounces – tackling Dean to the bed like a linebacker rushing the opposing team’s star quarterback. He amuses himself by wondering if Brian Urlacher ever had these type of thoughts about Brett Favre as he insinuates himself between Dean’s legs and kisses him breathless – his strong hands overpowering Dean’s and pinning them to the bed on either side of his head. 

“Want you so bad…” He works his way methodically down Dean’s bare chest, sucking bruise after bruise into the flushed skin. “Want to feel you wrapped tightly around me. I _need_ to fuck you, Dean.” 

Dean grasps tightly to his own hair with both hands, groaning brokenly when Cas reaches the V between his hipbones and sucks a dark mark. Afterwards, he obliges Castiel by lifting his hips off the bed enough for him to divest him of his swim trunks, taking them off all the way and tossing them to the floor. 

“Perfect,” Castiel muses, looking down upon the exquisite creature laid out before him. “Utterly perfect.” Dean blushes prettily, which causes another surge of hormones to course through Castiel’s body, and then he’s quick to strip off his own shorts and grab a bottle of lube out of the nearest nightstand before rejoining Dean on the bed. 

He made swift work of opening Dean up – pleasuring Dean with his mouth to make up for the hurried pace. He just couldn’t wait to sink into that warm, wet heaven – to feel their bodies as close as humanly possible. 

“I’m ready, Cas, _please_ …” And oh, God, if Dean begging isn’t just the sweetest sound that Castiel has ever heard, he doesn’t know what is. 

He squeezes out one last dollop of lube to slick himself up and then he pushes forward, burying himself to the hilt in one go. Dean cries out – more pleasure than pain – so Castiel quiets him with his lips, snaking his hands between Dean’s shoulders and the bed and stilling his hips to let Dean have a moment to adjust. 

“Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, feeling a bit contrite at his own exuberance.

Dean’s expression softens and he strokes Castiel’s cheek gently before saying, “No, baby. No, you didn’t hurt me.” Castiel smiles shyly, melting at that name again, and Dean returns the smile before surging up to kiss Castiel passionately. He wraps those bowed legs around Castiel’s waist and rolls his hips to encourage Cas to move. 

Not one to let a gesture like that go unreciprocated, Castiel pulls his hands back to plant them palm-down on the mattress and props himself up. He pulls out almost completely and then begins thrusting – a punishing pace that slaps his thighs against Dean’s ass and rocks the bed frame with each forward motion. 

Castiel becomes so focused on the task at hand – so entranced with the physical and emotional feedback loop between he and Dean that it takes a while for him to realize that Dean is speaking. At first he just assumes that it’s the nonsensical words and noises that Dean often makes when Castiel has been able to completely take him apart, but soon enough it’s obvious that this is different. There are tears leaking out of the corners of Dean’s closed eyes and the words are coming in a rush, but they’re cogent enough. 

“…so happy to have found you, Cas. Just wish it would have been sooner. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just… you make me feel so… I love you, Cas… _I love you_.”

“ _Dean…_ Shh, shh, sweetheart. It’s alright.” Cas grips Dean tightly and pulls him up so that he’s straddling Cas’s thighs – his face tucked into the crook of Castiel’s neck. “I love you too, Dean. It’s ok. Everything is ok.” 

Dean lifts his head to look into Castiel’s eyes – the dark cloud of lust softened by the inherent vulnerability that Dean so often hides behind his mask of cocky bravado. “You do?” he asks. 

“Of course I do,” he responds, thumbing away the tears from Dean’s face. “Have since the first moment I laid eyes on you. How could I not? How could anyone not?” 

“Say it again,” Dean demands, picking up where Castiel had left off – the slow roll of his hips soon becoming a filthy snap as Dean impales himself over and over again. 

“I love you,” Castiel breathes into Dean’s ear. He smells like chlorinated pool water, with just a hint of Castiel’s own honey and hibiscus shampoo – all combined with Dean’s own ineffable scent to make for the most potent aphrodisiac that Castiel has ever experienced. “I’ll always love you… for as long as you’ll let me.” 

Dean lets out a moaning sob and quickens his pace even more. The multiple sources of stimulation are rapidly bringing Castiel close to the brink. But surprisingly, it’s Dean that reaches it first – coming untouched between their heated bodies and clenching down like a vise around Castiel’s buried length. The pressure is enough to pull the most mind-blowing orgasm out of him and he crashes their lips together and hugs him tightly as he empties himself into Dean’s body. 

He’s almost positive that his soul empties with it because he instantly feels rung out, dropping his forehead to rest upon the tattoo on Dean’s lightly freckled shoulder as he tries desperately to catch his breath. He doesn’t really mind though – his soul has belonged to Dean Winchester long before this day, and he’s pretty sure that he’s never getting it back. But he trusts Dean to care for it – to cradle it within his own and never let it go. 

Before either can manage to speak a word though, they’re rudely interrupted by a sharp knock and the door being flung wide open.

“Jesus Christ, Cassie!” Gabriel shouts, disgusted. “Learn how to lock a fucking door!” Dean hides his face in his shoulder and Castiel turns to send a death glare in Gabriel’s general direction. 

He’s mortified to see not only Gabe, but also Damon standing there – his clear, wide eyes and soft-spoken, “Ho-ly shit,” indicative of his overall shock. It seems to be short-lived though, for soon his eyebrows lower and he gets a smirk to end all smirks on his handsome face – his gaze roaming over Castiel’s naked back and ass while he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. “Should have skipped the sideshow and headed straight for the main event.” 

“Fuck off!” Dean shouts, as Castiel inquires, “What side show?” 

“Mike and luci… usual bullshit. Anyway,” he continues. “Came to tell you that I’m going to start the pie making for tomorrow and I thought you might like to help, Dean.” Dean raises an interested gaze at that and Gabriel keeps talking. “We’re baking in my kitchen so the rest of the group has decided to get together in my lounge and play charades. Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says when he’s leveled with a skeptical look. “Dad’s idea – don’t blame me.” 

Castiel shifts his gaze to Damon and see the man licking his chops and shifting on his feet, and suddenly Castiel wishes that Gabe would hurry up and say what he has to say so they can get the fuck out already. 

“Anyway…” Gabriel says, clearly enjoying the discomfort that he’s causing in his brother and his brother’s lover, “Put your dicks away and shake a leg. You don’t want Dad or Jimmy to come looking for you next.” 

Castiel simply nods and Gabriel has to physically manhandle Damon to get him far enough away to close the door. When it’s closed, Castiel huffs and turns back to face Dean. “So…” he begins, not sure exactly what kind of mood Dean is in after everything that just happened. 

“So,” he responds, clearly thinking the same. 

“We should probably get cleaned up and head down.” Dean nods, mouth dropping into a frown, and Castiel’s quick to cup his cheek and kiss him lovingly before he can get too far. “We’ll talk more later, ok?” he assures. Dean smiles and nods, bringing his hand up to wrap around Cas’s, squeezing reassuringly. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “…later. But now it’s time for pie, huh?” He gets that familiar twinkle in his eye whenever this subject is spoken of, and Castiel can only hope that he doesn’t embarrasses himself too much in front of his family in response to the antics which Dean will absolutely pull during the next few hours. 

“Heaven help me,” is all he says in response, but it’s enough. Dean knows exactly what he does to Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and sorry about the Bears/Packers reference. I guess that's what you get for growing up in northern Illinois. Just for funsies, here's a picture of Urlacher and Favre embracing and looking longingly into each others' eyes... [Cheesy/Bear love](http://www.trbimg.com/img-5655d03a/turbine/ct-bears-brett-favre-spt-1126-20151125)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this chapter would be more fun, and while there is some humor, it turned out to be mostly thoughts and feels. Oh well. What the hell do I know anyway? I'm just the writer. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Though I can promise that the next chapter will be a lot more smutty, and then the one after that is when shit will finally hit the fan.

Walking hand in hand, Dean and Cas follow Gabe and Damon down a series of halls and stairways until they reach a large open area on the basement level. Dean looks around and realizes that it’s basically an apartment. It’s large, with opulent features, and an open floor plan, but an apartment nonetheless. 

“Our mother doted on Gabriel,” Cas says in an undertone. “When he turned eighteen and professed an interest in culinary school, Mother had this apartment designed for him so that he would stay and attend school close to home. It’s equipped with a professional kitchen so he had everything he needed to practice at home.” 

“Ah,” Dean responds. “It’s nice.” Cas smiles at him and then steals a kiss and a quick squeeze to his ass before joining the rest of the gaming group in the lounge area, which is set up right next to the kitchen. 

Everyone but Chuck is seated on various sofas and chairs, while the Novak patriarch is standing in the middle with an actual top hat in his hands. Dean takes a moment to wonder which one of the twins was more likely to have gone through a magic phase before realizing that Chuck has probably actually had occasion to wear such a thing. It’s probably part of his actual wardrobe, and isn’t that a fucking trip? 

Dean shakes his head at the grandiosity of it all and then skirts around the group and into the kitchen to join Gabriel, who’s tying an apron around himself that says, “I Like Big Bundts and I Cannot Lie.” Dean rolls his eyes and cracks a bit of a smile, but it doesn’t linger on his face for long because the next thing Gabriel does is slip an apron over Dean’s head and spin him around to tie it for him.

The position makes it so that Dean is facing all of the people seated in the lounge and he blushes furiously when he looks down to see that his own apron is frilly and pink and says, “Cupcake Cutie.” Most of the group take one look and start snickering – a few more rambunctious souls making catcalls in Dean’s direction. But Dean notices that Cas’s eyes darken and narrow, and he shifts in his seat, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. 

It’s difficult for Dean to break that laser beam gaze, but it’s Cas who breaks it first – though he only does so that he can undress Dean with his eyes. And it’s at that point when Dean remembers that he’s wearing a brand new pair of panties that Cas had given him that morning – a pair in the exact same shade of pink as the apron. 

“Come on, Cupcake, let’s bake some pies!” Gabriel slaps Dean on the ass in passing and Cas winks at him from across the room before he turns his blue-eyed attention back to his father. Dean takes a deep breath, silently cursing both brothers, and then joins Gabe at the counter.

“Alright,” Gabe begins. “We’re doing pumpkin, apple, pecan, and coconut cream. I made the crust dough earlier so we just need to make the fillings and do the actual baking.”

“Coconut cream?” Dean asks. The other three are standard Thanksgiving pies but that one comes somewhat out of left field. To Dean, it seems more fit for Easter than Thanksgiving. 

“Cas requested it.” Gabriel shrugs and sets to work opening up cans of pureed pumpkin and evaporated milk. Dean takes out some dough to line a couple of pie plates, taking on the task of making the coconut cream pies. The crust needs to be pre-baked before he can add the filling, so he works on that first. 

There really isn’t any talking at the moment between Gabe and himself, so Dean focuses on the rest of the group in the lounge. They’re close enough, and there are no walls separating them, so Dean can hear very clearly everything that’s being said. 

“Ok. So I guess that just leaves Cas teamed up with Jimmy!” Chuck’s voice sounds much more enthusiastic than Dean would have expected when hearing those words spoken together like that, but when he sneaks a peek at the twins, sitting next to each other on a love seat, they don’t look upset about it, or even surprised. They simply share identical smirks and nod their acquiescence at their father. 

“Just like old times,” Gabe says, bringing Dean’s attention back to what he’s supposed to be doing. 

“Old times?” Dean questions. 

Gabe jerks his head toward the twins and says, “Growing up, the twins were always on a team when we played charades. Actually, they were always on a team regardless of what we were playing. They were inseparable, Cas and Jimmy.”

Dean watches as Jimmy stands up and starts pantomiming and he’s shocked when Cas guesses the correct answer in less than ten seconds. “Wow,” Dean exclaims. “That’s just…” Gabe raises a questioning brow. “I just… It’s just sort of hard to believe, you know?” 

“No, I don’t know. What do you mean, Dean?” Gabe sounds genuinely confused, though why, Dean can’t understand. It’s like Gabe’s never even met the twins before. 

“Uh… in case you haven’t noticed, they sort of hate each other.” 

Gabe scoffs and turns on the stand mixer for a while, but when he’s done, he turns back to Dean and says, “They don’t hate each other, Dean. Not even close.” 

Now it’s Dean’s turned to be confused. But before he can inquire further, they’re interrupted by shouting coming from the lounge. They turn to see Michael and Lucifer arguing vociferously and at length – both blaming each other for not being able to guess their answer correctly in the allotted time. 

“Now those two…? Those two hate each other. But Cas and Jimmy? I’ve never seen a more dynamic duo. Hell, as cheesy as it sounds, they complete each other. It’s like one can’t exist on Earth without the other, you know?” 

“Are you high?” Dean asks incredulously. Extensive pot use _would_ explain Gabriel’s penchant for sweets. “The twins can barely stand to be in a room together most of the time. I mean, Jimmy used to say nice things about Cas when I first met him, but ever since Cas went on that overseas trip, all I’ve ever seen them do is fight.” 

“Well, gee, Dean… I wonder what could have possibly happened in their lives around that time that would have had a negative effect on their relationship…?” Gabe gives him a look of derision that Dean’s not entirely convinced that he deserves, though he can’t help but understand what the middle Novak brother is getting at…

Dean knows exactly what happened in the twins’ lives at that time… he happened. First Jimmy, then Cas – Dean had worked his way under both twin’s skin and into both of their beds, and he’d apparently done so with absolutely no regard to how it would affect the special connection that Cas and Jimmy shared. 

Dean spares a moment to think of the relationship he has with his own brother – he and Sam, practically joined at the hip since Sam’s birth – and wonders how the fuck he never let himself really see it. 

“Hey…” Gabriel interrupts Dean’s silent ruminations – breaking his attention away from where he’s looking at the twins smiling at each other and exchanging what looks like an intricate and well-practiced victory dance/high five as they win another round of their game. “These pies aren’t gonna make themselves, Yoko. Make yourself useful or get out of my kitchen.” 

Dean grabs the recipe for the coconut cream pie filling and does his best to concentrate on the task at hand. It’s really difficult though, and he spends the rest of the time wavering between playing a convincing Betty Crocker, and surreptitiously watching Cas and Jimmy complete each other in the other room – one’s ying to the other’s yang… one’s harmony to the other’s melody. 

Fuck. Gabe is right… he is Yoko. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh… _fuuuuck_ , that feels good…” Jimmy moans and then opens his eyes to see Balthazar smirking at him, his light blue eyes hooded and glassy. 

“Jesus, Jimmy! How much did you drink?” Jimmy sputters and sits up out of his lounging position when his brother’s entrance into the hot tub kicks water up into his face. “And move the fuck over! You’re taking up half the fucking space!”

“Suck my dick, Gabriel.” He does move though – scooting over so that his thigh is brushing up against Balthazar’s next to him. 

“Gross. No. I’ll leave that particular task to Dean, thank you very much.” Gabriel settles himself on the other side of the hot tub, next to Damon, who also has that very happy drunk look about him. Gabriel hadn’t drunk as much as the rest of them – he never does, choosing to stick to overly sweet, low-proof alcohol concoctions, as opposed to the straight hard liquor that the other three had imbibed during their late dinner. 

“What a shame then that Dean’s not here,” Balthazar says offhandedly. Jimmy suddenly feels a hand on his knee, squeezing firmly and lingering afterward. “Perhaps what you need is to find yourself a stand-in for the time being…” The hand on his knee slowly makes its way further up his thigh, inching the leg of his swim trunks steadily upward. 

“Ooh… so is this going to be like, an open audition?” Damon asks, abruptly wedging himself between Jimmy and Balthazar – dislodging the blond man’s hand and draping his arm around the back of Jimmy’s shoulders, completely ignoring Balthazar’s disgruntled expression. “’Cause you know,” he begins, whispering conspiratorially, “I give great head… shots.” Jimmy grins at Damon’s joke, and then just about swallows his tongue when he continues with, “And my blow jobs are pretty stellar, too.” 

Balthazar gets up and moves to sit on Jimmy’s other side. His hand goes back to Jimmy’s knee, apparently deciding to make the most of the situation. “What is it you Americans say…? ‘Two _heads_ are better than one?” 

Jimmy doesn’t know where to look or what to do. He’s rapidly forgetting the various reasons why group sex in the hot tub with two men (neither of which are his boyfriend) would be a very bad idea. In fact, he’s having a very hard time thinking about Dean at all at the moment, and Jimmy realizes that that has sort of been a theme for today.

Ever since brunch, Balthazar and Damon have been doing their damnedest to keep him entertained by vying for his attention, and he has to admit that it’s been an excellent day. 

The beginning of the day had admittedly been a little rocky, what with having to watch Dean and Cas cavorting together in the pool. And then, to have to deal with the embarrassment of losing the race to his brother (and he _still_ doesn’t know what possessed him to even try – he knew damn well that Cas was a better swimmer than anyone there) – Jimmy had almost been ready to call it quits before the day even got started. 

But as the day progressed, Jimmy had thought less and less about Dean and Cas, and more and more about well, anything and everything else. It was quite freeing, actually… and fun, to be honest. Jimmy is so attracted to Dean that he can’t help but revel in the time that they spend together. But he can’t really recall the last time that he’d had so much fun and felt so wanted as he had today. 

And of course, there had also been the thing with he and Cas earlier in the day. And for the first time in a long time it hadn’t been a bad thing! He and his brother had kicked ass and taken names during their game of charades and it was just like old times. 

The simple truth is that Jimmy really misses his twin. Jimmy had been so enamored with Dean, practically as soon as he had met him, that he had kind of expected Dean’s life to mold around his own – to add an additional layer of amorous companionship to his already full family life. But instead, Cas’s own expressed interest for the man had precluded any perfect life vision scenarios fairly early on. Now he’s barely holding on to his relationship with Dean, and he doesn’t even know if his relationship with Cas – with his best friend – is salvageable. 

Jimmy spares a glance at Damon, then Balthazar, and for the first time he wonders if this whole fierce competition that he’s got going on with Cas is even worth it…

Just then, the sauna door opens and speak of the devil (and no, he actually doesn’t mean Lucifer this time), Dean and Cas spill out into the pool room – flushed and sweaty, with Cas holding onto Dean from behind while they laugh and stumble. Cas whispers something in Dean’s ear before nipping the lobe between his teeth, and then he pulls Dean’s back and ass up flush against his own chest and hips. 

And that’s when all the reasons why Jimmy thinks that he can’t give up – not yet, maybe not ever – come rushing back at the sight of the couple before him. Bitter jealousy burns through his gut as he looks at all the glorious, freckled skin that Dean has on display – skin that’s marked up with bites and bruises that Jimmy knows weren’t there yesterday.

And the hurt – the hurt which, surprisingly only seems to stem from what was once pure brotherly affection. He doesn’t feel much hurt in his heart when it comes to Dean. But Cas…

Yesterday’s reprieve of light-hearted comaraderie during the game of charades just served to point out the disparity between how it used to be between them only three short months ago, and how it is now. 

And Cas… Cas did that. His twin had never done something like this to him. He’d always given way and given in whenever there was something that Jimmy wanted. It’s just the way it always was with them. So why should that change now? Why should Jimmy be the one to sacrifice? To just step back and let Cas take the prize? Especially when it’s something that Jimmy wants so very much? He never has before… so why start now? 

Jimmy pulls his attention out of his introspective headspace and back to the handsy couple before him. Instead of swim trunks, they’re both wearing pool towels tucked around their waists that look perilously close to slipping down and giving up on their intended purpose. Neither man appears to realize that they’re not alone though – at least not until Gabriel clears his throat obnoxiously loudly, and Dean straightens up and freezes, still as a statue. 

“We already had dinner,” Damon says. “Is this the ‘show’ portion of the evening?”

“Um… we were just…” Dean barely even tries to come up with some sort of explanation that isn’t just, ‘fooling around in the sauna’ – which is obviously what they were doing. Instead, he just drops his sentence there and shrugs – looking tired and oddly deflated for some reason. 

Cas looks just the opposite though. His grin is smug and wholly triumphant, and the bright sparkle in his sapphire eyes shows that he has energy to burn. 

“We were just leaving,” he says, grabbing the pile of clothing that they’d obviously discarded earlier on a nearby chair, and ushering Dean toward the exit. 

“Aw, come on!” Damon shouts after tem. “Stay! There’s plenty of room in here with us!” 

Cas just laughs and shakes his head, but the real kicker is how he winks at Jimmy on his way past the hot tub and then places a possessive hand on Dean’s hip, pulling him in close and keeping him there as they go. 

The gesture makes him see red and he instantly tunes out whatever else his hot tub companions may have to say, focusing instead on how he’d very much like to punch Cas in his smirking face. 

“Jimmy! Hey!” Another splash of hot water on his face brings his attention back to what’s going on around him, and looks up to see Gabriel snapping his fingers in Jimmy’s face. “Whatever you’re thinking, just don’t. He’s not worth it, Jimmy.”

Is Gabriel right? And of whom is he referring to anyway? Is it Dean? Is keeping Dean worth losing his twin, perhaps forever? Or is it Cas? Is beating Cas worth, well, _beating_ Cas? And would that end up being the final straw? Would Dean appreciate the caveman-like gesture, or would it end up costing him any hope of ever finally winning Dean once and for all?

Either way, he thinks that he’d do well to sleep on it at least… and maybe not in his own room. The temptation might be too much with the two of them so close. 

“Can I stay with one of you, tonight?” he asks the group at large. 

“Sure!” they answer as one, Gabriel sounding far less enthusiastic than the other two. He levels them both with a gimlet glare, but his eyes soften significantly when he looks back at Jimmy and says, “Anything you need, baby brother.”

Tomorrow something will change. It has to, and Jimmy will make it so if need be… whatever it takes.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty smut, as promised.
> 
> Kinda short, but I didn't want to leave it with a cliffhanger, so the next chapter will probably be quite a bit longer. It also may be the last chapter before the epilogue, so only a couple more to go, friends! 
> 
> Thank you again for sticking with me! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> p.s. Oh hey, look! I hit 100,000 words on this work! Phew... that's a ding dang lot of words!

“Mmm… looks good enough to eat.” Castiel comes up behind Dean at the kitchen counter and hooks his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“I should hope so,” Dean responds, putting the finishing touches on the coconut cream pie – a sprinkling of toasted coconut adorning the fluffy, white mounds of sweetened whipped cream. 

The game of charades had ended hours ago (triumphant victors: Cas and Jimmy, of course), followed by movie time in the home theater, and then dinner. Near the end of the meal, Dean had said that he needed to finish the cream pie, which had been chilling in the fridge. Castiel thought that was an excellent idea and the two of them had snuck down to Gabe’s kitchen to see to the task. 

“I wasn’t talking about the pie,” Castiel murmurs in his ear, grabbing a firm hold of Dean’s ass and sucking a kiss into Dean’s already-marked neck. Castiel loves the look of his marks on Dean’s body. He’s a possessive man at the best of times, and the whole situation with Jimmy just exacerbates the trait. “Come on.”

Castiel grabs the pie and a spoon from a nearby drawer and gestures for Dean to follow him. It’s getting kind of late, but he’s pretty sure that the rest of the group are still in the dining room – enjoying their drinks and their conversations. 

“Where are we going?” Dean asks. He sounds curious, but not the least bit apprehensive, and Castiel knows that Dean trusts him. It’s a reassurance that makes him smile; knowing that he could lead Dean anywhere and the man will follow, with minimal questions asked. 

Castiel turns back and winks instead of answering, continuing on to his destination with Dean hot on his heels. Eventually they arrive at the pool. The lights in the room are off, but the ones inside the pool and hot tub are on, casting a cool, blue glow throughout the warm space. 

He bypasses both though and heads straight for the sauna, putting down the pie on a nearby lounge chair to free up his hands. He quickly removes all of his clothes, giving Dean a pointed look so that he’ll follow Castiel’s lead. 

“What if someone comes in?” Dean says, glancing nervously toward the door while he removes his t-shirt and then his jeans. Castiel is thrilled to see the pink, satin panties that Dean is wearing underneath, the sight causing his dick to harden quickly at the thought of getting his hands on them, and everything that is hidden underneath. 

“I’m not worried.” Dean rolls his eyes, expressing just how unsatisfactory an answer that is to his very real concern. It’s true though, Castiel isn’t worried about anything right now. He feels invincible, like nothing and no one can stop him from getting exactly what, or who, he wants. “Keep them on.”

Dean halts the movement of his hands where they’re hooked into the waistband of his panties, removing them slowly and letting them fall at his sides, fingers tapping nervously on his thighs. He’s waiting for further instruction, and it sends a thrill through Castiel. Dean is so perfect – letting Castiel tell him when and where and what, relinquishing control happily and completely. 

“Come here.” Castiel stands his ground, waiting for Dean to step close enough for him to snake his hands around Dean’s hips, getting a firm grip on his satin-clad ass and pulling him in so that their bodies are flush. He leans forward to claim Dean’s mouth, the other man lifting his arms up so that his hands can tangle in Castiel’s dark locks. 

He can feel Dean hard against him – the smooth satin slipping silkily between them. Castiel pulls back reluctantly, taking hold of one of Dean’s hands before leading him to the sauna door. He opens it and gestures for Dean to enter, then let’s go of his hand to reach back and grab the pie to bring in with him. He takes one more moment to turn the knob next to the door, starting up the timer that will in-turn initiate the heating mechanism. 

It’s warm inside and smells incredible – that sweet, earthy forest scent that Castiel loves so much. It’s not hot though, not yet. It will take a little while for the small room to fill with the cushioning heat that will warm them to their bones and cause sweat to run down their naked bodies. 

Dean stands in the middle of the small space and takes a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing his beautiful face. He runs his hands over his naked torso, eyes closed as he revels in the feel of his own hands. 

Castiel is happy to see that there is a stack of clean towels piled up in one corner. He takes one and places it down on the floor, seating himself on the bench in front of it and setting the pie down next to him. He plants his feet on either side of the towel and begins stroking himself, catching Dean’s eye and indicating with a nod that he should kneel down. 

Dean does so with alacrity, running the palms of his hands up Castiel’s legs and following the path with kisses on the sensitive skin of Castiel’s inner thighs. He removes his own hand from his cock when Dean’s head reaches his goal, his pink tongue darting out to lick up the small bead of clear fluid pearling at the tip. 

He follows that up by licking more insistently around the head before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. Castiel groans and lets his head fall back to rest against the upper tier of benches, his hands coming to rest tenderly in Dean’s soft hair. 

He lets Dean lavish attention on his cock until he starts to feel the heat in the room reach a more oppressive temperature. While Dean is still otherwise occupied – bobbing his head up and down with his eyes closed, low moans muffled by the thick cock in his mouth – Castiel dips a finger into the slowly melting pie and paints a stripe up his abdomen. He takes a bit more to coat both of his nipples and then taps Dean’s cheek to get his attention.

Lust-darkened green eyes open slowly and look up to fix on his face. Castiel looks down to draw attention to the creamy trail on his body and Dean’s eyes get a flicker of excitement. He pulls off of Castiel’s dick and licks his lips. Then he scoots the towel forward a couple of inches so that he can lean farther forward – gripping Castiel’s cock with his hand to stroke lightly as he licks the trail of whipped cream and pie filling from Castiel’s naval to his pecs. 

Dean moans at the taste, tightening his grip and letting his head fall back to savor it – his eyes rolling back in pure pleasure. He looks so beautiful like this… giving and taking in equal measure, all of his senses engaged and happy. “Taste good, kitten?” 

Dean moans again and nods his head enthusiastically before leaning forward to take one of Castiel’s painted nipples into his mouth. He sucks happily and nibbles lightly, the combined pleasure of Dean’s mouth and his hand causing Castiel to moan as well. He dips his finger into the pie once more and brings it to his own mouth. _Shit, that does taste good,_ he thinks.

Dean finishes his attention to Castiel’s other nipple and then lowers his head to take Castiel’s cock into his mouth once more. He allows it for a few moments, but then pulls Dean off and urges him to his feet. He leans forwards and mouths over Dean’s panty-clad dick – dampening the fabric with his spit as Dean gently rocks back and forth. He doesn’t do it for very long though – instead he pulls them down and off, wanting Dean unrestricted for what he has planned next. 

Castiel moves the towel up to the second tier bench and tells Dean to kneel again, this time facing the wall so that he can lean his forearms against the third and final tier of benches. It puts him at the perfect height for Castiel to place a quick, painless bite to Dean’s ass cheek. “Spread your legs,” he commands. 

Dean complies eagerly and then groans, “ _Fuck…_ ” when Castiel leans forward and spreads his cheeks, licking over his hole and thrusting his tongue in and out. He isn’t super tight – still stretched out somewhat from this morning – so Castiel coats first one, and then two fingers in his saliva to add in alongside his tongue. 

He takes his time stretching Dean open. He didn’t think to bring any lube so he wants to make sure that he doesn’t hurt Dean when he takes him. If Dean’s moans and “ _Oh, fuck, baby, yes!_ ”s are anything to go by, then the man is feeling no pain, so that’s reassuring, at least. 

He goes up to four fingers this time, just to be extra sure, and then pulls at Dean’s hips until he climbs back down to the floor. Castiel seats himself once more, and then guides Dean over to straddle his thighs. He coats himself with as much spit as he can muster up before positioning his spit-slick cock at Dean’s open and waiting entrance. 

The temperature in the sauna has ratcheted up exponentially at this point and the sweat is rolling off both of their bodies. It mixes together and helps ease the glide as Dean sinks down until he’s fully seated. 

They kiss lazily as Dean adjusts to the intrusion, the heat slowing their motions down to a snail’s-pace. Eventually Dean pulls back and begins to roll his hips, and Castiel takes the opportunity to pick up the spoon and dig into the pie, bringing it back to feed Dean. 

He takes the offered morsel and rolls it around in his mouth, then leans in to share the lingering taste with Castiel in a deep, passionate kiss. He grabs hold of Dean’s hips and lifts him enough so that he can fuck into him slow and deep. The angle seems to please him (or maybe it’s just the exhaustive heat) so that he leans his head down to rest against Castiel’s shoulder. 

“You feel so good, Dean… so hot. I believe I could stay happily buried in you forever.” 

Dean starts to pick up the pace – hips swiveling expertly to work Castiel’s cock perfectly. He’s getting close fast so he snakes his hand down to wrap around Dean’s own hard dick – the sweat and pre-come more than ample to provide a super-smooth glide. “Oh, fuck, Cas… fuck, fuck, yes! Gonna… gonna-“

Dean’s exclamations are cut off when Castiel sticks a pie-covered finger in his mouth and he comes, sucking harshly on Castiel’s finger, his eyes slipping closed as he moans around the thin digit. His hips jerk in aborted movements as he spurts between them.

Castiel gives him a moment to compose himself and then he removes his finger from Dean’s mouth and places both hands on his hips once more before gripping tight and continuing the movement of his own hips. He fucks Dean fast and hard, chasing his own orgasm. It doesn’t take long, and soon he stills, filling Dean up while he shouts out his own intense pleasure. 

“More.” Castiel raises his head to look questioningly at Dean. They both have respectable refractory periods but they literally _just_ came. “Pie,” he clarifies. “More pie.” Castiel picks up the spoon and digs in with a big bite, bringing it up to Dean’s smiling lips. “This shit is delicious.” Castiel chuckles and indulges him for a few more minutes, feeding him spoonful after spoonful until a quarter of the pie is gone. 

A few of those spoonfuls make their way into his own mouth and he has to agree… “You’re correct… this ‘shit’ is delicious.” 

They both laugh and then Dean takes the spoon from his hand, plunking it back down into the pie. Castiel grabs a nearby towel and wipes up the various messes, then hands it off to Dean to use once he lifts himself up to get to his feet. He grabs another to give himself another perfunctory swipe, and then gets to his feet to wrap the towel around his hips. This was great… they should definitely do it again sometime. 

He’s shaken out of his internal musings by Dean’s hands on his face, insistently tipping his head up to focus his gaze on determined green eyes. “I’m going to tell him,” he says, apropos of nothing. Castiel can guess who ‘he’ is, but exactly what Dean plans on telling him is still undetermined. “I’m going to tell him that I want to be with you – only you, and that he and I can no longer see each other.” 

Castiel can’t help the wide smile that comes to his face. It’s probably a little on the smug side, but he tries his best to temper that. He really does love Dean, and he knows that Dean will be happier when he isn’t being pulled in two directions. 

His expression must be sufficient to convey the depths of his feelings because Dean smiles even wider in return and kisses him soundly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug afterward. 

“Not until we’re back in Chicago though,” he adds. “I wouldn’t want to ruin Thanksgiving.” 

Castiel nods his agreement and then kisses him back. “I love you, Dean. I just want you to be happy.”

“I know, baby… I know. And it’s you who makes me happy. It’s you who gives me exactly what I need, when I need it. It’s you who I think about when I’m alone… and even when I’m not. It’s you who I love, Cas. Only you.” 

Castiel spares a moment’s thought for how Jimmy will feel when Dean tells him it’s over between them. It puts a damper on his own newfound joy, but it’s not quite enough for him to have second thoughts. He needs Dean… needs him like he needs air to breathe. He can’t imagine his life without the beautiful soul standing in front of him now. 

Castiel pushes Dean up against the hot wooden wall, showing him without words how very much he’s loved and wanted. He wants this for the rest of his life. He wants Dean to be the last thing he sees at night and the first thing he sees upon waking in the morning. Always. 

“More.” Castiel quirks a brow and glances back to the pie before taking an abortive step in that direction. “Not pie. More of you.” Dean pulls him back and rolls their hips together, kissing him thoroughly while he does. Castiel pulls away after a few moments and playfully pinches Dean’s ass before darting toward the door, intent on racing Dean back to their room for round two. 

He underestimates Dean’s quick reflexes though, and Dean manages to get out before him, but he isn’t quick enough to escape Castiel’s possessive grasp – his hands coming around to pull the laughing man close to him. “I’ll always catch you, kitten… always,” he whispers in his ear. Then he nips Dean’s earlobe between his lips, gently scraping it between his teeth on the way back out. 

They soon realize that they are no longer alone in the pool room and it’s an awkward minute or two before they can manage to beat a hasty retreat back to their room. Dean tries to give him what he probably thinks is a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Everything will be alright, Castiel tries to remind himself. They just have to get through tomorrow and then Dean will be all his. Never again will either of them have to feel guilty for their relationship (well, at least not as guilty as they do now). They will be happy together… forever, if Castiel has any choice in the matter.


	27. Chapter 27

Splitting his time and attention equally between Cas and Jimmy on Thanksgiving day had been a good idea… in theory. In practice, Dean finds that it’s a fucking disaster.

“He was just on your team the last game, Cas!” Jimmy shouts. “He will be on _my_ team this time!”

Dean can tell that Cas has almost reached his breaking point. Not only has he had to relinquish his claim on Dean’s usually undivided attention all day, but to make matters worse, Jimmy has been uncharacteristically dominating in his treatment of Dean. 

He has been clingy in a possessive sort of way – giving Dean orders in a manner that brooks no argument when it’s “his turn,” and watching like a hawk when it isn’t. 

It’s very reminiscent of the way that Cas usually acts actually, and Dean has to admit that if it’s a strategy on Jimmy’s part, then it’s pretty clever. Because what’s more is that – to a certain extent, at least – it’s working. 

“Come here, Dean,” Jimmy commands, seating himself on one of the hard, plastic seats in the bowling alley. (And yes, the Novaks have a bowling alley in their gigantic game room – because of course they do.) Dean shoots Cas an apologetic look on his way, very conscious of the man’s narrowed gaze and clenched jaw. “No, don’t sit there, Dean. Sit in my lap.”

Dean balks at the request, but quickly realizes that it isn’t a request at all – it’s a demand – and there’s an instinctual part of him that can’t help but obey… especially when Jimmy lowers his voice and gets that hard look in his eyes. 

“I can switch with him,” Lucifer says, getting to his feet to join Cas’s team.

“Absolutely not,” Michael responds, throwing his arm around Lilith and pulling her close to his side. 

And that had been another unpleasant surprise when everyone had assembled for breakfast this morning… It appears as though Lilith had somehow found her way into Michael’s bedroom last night and decided that she wanted to stay. By the time breakfast was done, one of the maids had moved her belongings from one brother’s room to the other and Lucifer was switching between glowering into his fifth mimosa and glaring daggers at the happy couple. 

Dean had found himself shocked at the remorseless attitude of both Michael and Lilith, but chose not to say anything – in fear that he’d be struck down by the shear hypocrisy of it all. 

And now, Lucifer looks like he’s one more mimosa away from punching Michael in the face. But before Lucifer has a chance to do anything, Balthazar declares that he’s more than happy to switch, and then sprints over and grasps Cas by the elbow, dragging him back to sit next to him. It averts everyone’s attention back to the twins’ altercation, which in Dean’s opinion isn’t any better, but at least it gets Lucifer to sit back down so the game can commence. 

It’s awkward as fuck for Dean, sitting in Jimmy’s lap while Cas looks like he’s trying to use his mind to smite his twin from less than ten feet away. The anxiety it causes makes Dean squirm, which in turn causes Jimmy to grip him tightly by the hips and whisper-shout, “ _Stay still!_ ” in Dean’s ear. It’s quiet enough not to be obvious to everyone around, but still loud enough to be heard by those who are paying close attention – namely Cas.

His eyes hone in on Jimmy’s possessive hold and he growls – literally fucking _growls_ – and Dean knows that this is it. This is what will send Cas over his tipping point and he just can’t. He’s got to do something to diffuse the situation. So he decides to take himself out of the equation, at least temporarily. 

“I need to take a piss!” He exclaims, and jumps to his feet, dislodging Jimmy’s hold and shaking his head minutely in Cas’s direction, hoping that he’ll get the message to calm the fuck down. 

“Thanks for the update, Dean. Need someone to hold your dick for you while you do that?” Damon asks.

“What? No.” 

“Well, if you change your mind…” He lets the statement trail off, implication clear. Dean can’t tell if the offer is actually genuine or not, and he doesn’t have it in him to care one way or the other. But it redirects Cas’s ill-intent away from Jimmy and onto Damon instead, and Dean realizes that that was probably his intention. He seems to be trying to help, in his own fucked up way, and it grudgingly raises Dean’s opinion of the man.

“Be back in a bit. Someone else can take my turn.” Dean hauls ass out of the room, surprising himself by being able to find his way back through the gigantic house and back to the bathroom across from Jimmy’s bedroom. He’s sure that there are closer ones, but he needs time and space away from the relentless tension, so he locks himself inside and simply slides down to sit on the floor. He leans his back up against the door and buries his face in his hands, trying without much success to clear his mind of all the warring thoughts. 

_Just get through today. Just get through today. Just get through today._ He repeats the mantra over and over while rocking slightly back and forth, but it doesn’t really seem to help very much. He’s still worrying about what Cas might do if Jimmy keeps pissing him off, and he’s also worrying about what Jimmy’s going to say or do when Dean tells him that he wants to end things between them so that he can be with Cas full time. 

Add to that the change in Jimmy’s demeanor today and Dean’s not even sure that he _wants_ to break things off with him. Maybe the twins are more alike than he had realized? Maybe Jimmy enjoys taking a more dominant role in a relationship and he was just too nervous or scared to admit it? 

But no, Dean had explicitly asked Jimmy on multiple occasions if he wanted to top and/or take control – assuring him that Dean would be more than ok with it if he did – but Jimmy had always said ‘no.’ He’d said that he preferred a more submissive role, and that he would only top if Dean specifically asked him to. 

And now Dean’s so fucking confused that he doesn’t know what to think. Maybe Jimmy changed his mind? Maybe Dean’s remembering wrong? Or maybe Jimmy’s just acting the way he is because he’s aware of his brother’s preferences (which means that he knows that Dean’s maybe more of a submissive bottom than he claims) and as such knows that acting the way he is will not only get a rise out of Cas, but will also tip the scales in his favor with Dean. 

He wants to scream, but he doesn’t do it. Instead, he huffs in frustration and stands up. He doesn’t actually have to pee, but he does go to the sink and splashes water on his face, then stares at himself in the mirror. He hates himself for letting everything get this messed up and wishes that he could think of a way to make things better without having to hurt anyone. 

“You’ve already hurt everyone,” he tells his reflection. Tears are beginning to gather in his eyes so he turns away from the mirror and wipes his face on a towel, hoping that no one will notice how red his eyes are. 

He opens the door and gasps, clutching his chest and feeling his heart race at the unexpected appearance of Charles Novak standing directly outside the bathroom door. “Jesus! You scared the shi- I mean, you scared me half to death, sir.” 

Chuck waves away Dean’s profanity. “No, I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just about to knock and see if you were ok. You’ve been in there for twenty minutes.”

“Oh. Um, no… I mean, yes, it’s fine. I’m fine. Sorry, I hadn’t realized how long I-“ Dean cuts off mid-sentence and cocks his head. “I’m sorry, but how do you know how long I...”

“I’ve been in my study.” He points to the open room at the end of the hall. “I saw you go in.” 

“Ah.” Dean rocks back and forth on his heels and tries to figure out what to do with his hands. He settles on shoving them into his pockets and begins to feel extremely uncomfortable. Chuck won’t stop staring at him and his blue eyes are eerily similar to the twins’. It’s unnerving. 

“Why don’t you join me for a drink, Dean? I’d like to show you something.” Chuck doesn’t wait for Dean to answer. He just turns and starts walking toward the study, probably assuming that Dean will simply follow. Which he does. How could he not? “You’re a whisky man, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Whisky’s fine.” Dean accepts the drink with thanks and takes a sip, ignoring the urge to chug the amber liquid and ask for another. He honestly has no idea what to expect right now. 

“Sit, Dean. Please.” Dean sits down on the sofa so fast that he almost slips off the smooth leather and right onto the floor. Chuck smiles and Dean hides his embarrassment by taking another sip of the strong alcohol.

Chuck joins him a few moments later – his own drink in one hand and a large, leather-bound album in the other. He hands the latter to Dean and then takes a healthy sip from his glass before setting it down on the gleaming wood tabletop in front of them. 

“What’s this?” Dean asks, though the answer is obvious when he opens the cover.

“Why, the obligatory embarrassing baby pictures, of course,” Chuck answers.

Dean can’t help but smile indulgently when he recognizes the woman from the family portrait holding one tiny baby in each arm. He can’t be sure, of course, but he likes to think that he can tell which is which. The baby he assumes is Jimmy is smiling happily, while the one he names as Cas looks stern and serious. Their tiny baby feet meet in the middle, toes tangled together. 

On the next page there’s a picture of the brothers asleep on their stomachs in a single crib. They’re facing each other – long lashes resting serenely against identical chubby cheeks, lips pursed, and one little hand of each baby between them, bitty little fingers tangled this time. 

“We couldn’t get them to sleep in separate cribs,” Chuck mentions, flipping to another picture. The twins are older in this one, probably about a year or so. They’re asleep in their crib again, but this time they’re lying head to foot and one boy’s toes are practically up the other’s nose. It reminds Dean of him and Sam, back when they were young and living with their father out of various motel rooms. They always had to share a bed and Sam was a restless sleeper – forever tossing and turning. Sometimes Dean would wake sweating buckets from having Sam draped sideways over his body, while other times he’d be freezing as Sam did his best burrito impression, and it was always a toss-up whether or not he’d have his feet in Dean’s face or not. 

The thought of Sam makes Dean’s stomach turn, the whisky roiling uncomfortably in his gut. Sam still doesn’t know the situation between Dean and the twins. He’s wanted to tell his brother so many times – it had been on the tip of his tongue on more than one occasion – but he just can’t. He knows that Sam won’t approve and Dean doesn’t think he can bear to see that disapproving look in his little brother’s face. He feels bad enough as it is. 

“It wasn’t until they started kindergarten that they agreed to separate beds – and I’m pretty sure that was only because the kids at school gave them a hard time about sharing a bed. And then it wasn’t until puberty hit that they asked for separate bedrooms.” Dean chuckles at that. He would have killed to have had his own room when he hit puberty. 

As it was, the best that he can say for his living situation at the time is that at least motels have large capacity hot water tanks. Sam had once asked him how he managed to get so dirty that he needed to take so many long showers. When Dean had told him that he was training for the swim team, Sam had scrunched up his face and said that didn’t make any sense. 

He probably would have continued questioning Dean (already possessing the skeptical and inquisitive mind that would lead to his becoming a lawyer), but their dad had barked at Sam to quit pestering his brother and finish his homework, so he dropped it. John had then smirked knowingly at Dean and took another swig from his beer. He didn’t tell Dean to stop though – it’s not like they had to pay the water bill, after all. 

Dean continues to look through the album with Chuck giving commentary every now and then. The photographs span through all the years and various milestones – sitting up, crawling, walking, birthdays, holidays, first day of school, and last. 

But while they differ in time and place, there’s one quite obvious common theme… in the pictures the twins are _always_ together. And the thing that’s even more surprising to Dean is that they look genuinely happy to be that way. 

Once they reach the high school graduation portion of the album, Dean decides that he has to ask about it, realizing that this is probably the reason that Chuck is showing this to him in the first place. “So, Cas and Jimmy used to be pretty close, huh?” Childhood closeness is one thing, but the fact that the twins still appeared to want to smile in pictures together during their teenage years speaks to a relationship that wasn’t merely familial. Cas and Jimmy weren’t just brothers… they were friends. 

“They were inseparable.” The way Chuck says it is solemn. There’s grief in his voice and it breaks something in Dean. He closes his eyes and hangs his head and hates himself more than he ever has before. 

They sit in silence and Dean tries desperately to think of something to say. An apology? An excuse maybe? But he knows that there’s nothing that he can say that will change the fact that _he’s_ the reason why Cas and Jimmy hate each other now. 

“It’s ok, Dean.” The sound of Chuck’s voice startles Dean out of his ever-increasing spiral of self-loathing, and he looks up to see the Novak patriarch looking at him as if he were Dean’s own father. But not in a way that John Winchester ever looked at him, no. Chuck looks at him like he cares. Like he knows how Dean is feeling and that he’s sorry for it. “It’s not your fault.” 

_But it is!_ Dean wants to shout. _It’s all my fault!_

Sam was right when he said that his relationship with Jimmy would crash and burn. But now it’s so much worse! It’s not just Jimmy’s relationship with Dean that’s fucked, but also his relationship with Cas. And Cas! Apparently it wasn’t enough for Dean to ruin one person’s life. No, he had to go and up the ante with the worst two-for-one deal in all of history! 

Dean gets up suddenly, letting the album fall to the floor as he feels panic begin to swell in his chest. “I have to… I need to…”

“Dean! There you are! We’ve been looking for you.” Dean’s head snaps around at the sound of Cas’s voice. He’s standing in the doorway with a relived look on his face, but it quickly becomes one of concern when he gets a good look at Dean. “Is something wrong? You never came back to the game.” 

“That’s my fault,” Chuck interjects. “Dean and I were just looking at some old photographs.” He picks the album up off the floor and holds it up. Cas seems to recognize it immediately, rolling his eyes and cracking a small smile.

“Baby photos? Really, father?” He walks over and takes the album from his dad. He begins to flip through the pages but his smile soon turns into a frown and he snaps the album shut and tosses it back down onto the coffee table. 

“What?” Chuck asks, feigning innocence. “You were beautiful babies. Can you blame me for wanting to show that off?” Dean doesn’t miss Chuck’s use of the plural, and he’s almost positive that Cas doesn’t either. His frown morphs into a thin, hard line, and he crosses his arms defensively over his chest. 

“I came to tell you that Gabe says dinner is ready,” he tells him. “But he’d like you to run down to the cellar and pick out the wine.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. I can do that.” He gives his son a warm smile which he turns on Dean next. Dean wishes that he could bask in it like Cas does, but he knows that he doesn’t deserve such a kind gesture, so he gives an imperceptible nod and averts his gaze to the floor, refusing to look up until Cas steps in close and gently forces Dean’s head up with a firm grasp on his chin. 

He places a soft kiss on Dean’s lips and cups his jaw. The firm tenderness is everything that Dean’s ever wanted, and it breaks his fucking heart to admit to himself that he can’t have this. He doesn’t deserve it. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

The words stick in his throat though and he can’t do it. And then Jimmy is there and he and Cas are arguing again, and Dean finds himself being pushed and pulled in the direction of the large, formal dining room – the sound of the twins’ bickering quickly becoming the soundtrack to Dean’s whole life. 

Before he knows it, he’s seated on one side of the huge mahogany table – Cas on his left, Jimmy on his right, and sitting directly across from them is Michael, Lilith, and Lucifer (in that order). The twins are still arguing with each other in an undertone, as are Michael and Lucifer, and Dean watches in a detached sort of fashion as Lilith looks up through her lashes and directly into his eyes with an evil little smirk on her glossy, pink lips before she fucking _winks_ at him. 

And in the end, that’s what does it. That one little wink from this woman that Dean doesn’t even know is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. 

He shoots up to a standing position, wild-eyed and with his heart in his throat and exclaims, “I can’t do this anymore!” 

The room instantly goes silent, everyone’s gaze fixed unblinkingly on Dean. That is, of course, until Gabriel walks in the room and shouts, “Who’s ready for my big, juicy breasts!” He’s carrying what’s got to be the biggest turkey that Dean’s ever seen, but no one seems to care. Everyone’s attention stays turned in Dean’s direction, waiting with bated breath for him to elaborate. “Jeez, tough crowd,” Gabe says, walking up and setting the platter down on the table in front of his father. “Oh, shit. Did I miss something?”

“Well, apparently,” Balthazar begins in a conspiratorial tone. “Mr. Winchester here ‘can’t do this anymore.’ I’m assuming that he’s going to explain what ‘this’ is, but he has yet to enlighten us. We’re all very curious, I assure you, darling. Please, do go on.” 

Dean’s never wanted to punch someone as much as he wants to punch that smirking blond bastard right now. He doesn’t do it, but the sudden rage that he feels for the man does clear his head somewhat, for which he supposes he should be grateful… He’s not. 

“What do you mean, Dean?” Cas asks him, darting a quick look at his twin before flicking his gaze back to Dean. 

Dean swallows thickly before speaking, not sure if he’ll be able to say the words that he knows he needs to say. His hands are shaking and he can feel the tears begin gathering in his eyes, no matter how hard he wills them not to. 

“I can’t be with you anymore, Cas. I’m sorry.” The look of pure shock and heartbreak on Cas’s face just twists the knife in Dean’s gut that much further. Cas looks _betrayed_ and Dean squeezes his eyes shut so as not to see it anymore, but it’s no use. The image is still there, like the retinal burn after a lightning strike – crystal clear even through the haze of tears. 

“What?” Cas asks, his voice breaking on the word like Dean’s heart is breaking in his chest. “But I thought-“

“I told you that he didn’t want you, Castiel,” Jimmy asserts. “He was just confused. But now he knows-“

“No,” Dean interrupts. “No, Jimmy.” He turns to look at the other twin in time to see the smirk quickly fade from his face. “I can’t be with you either.” 

While visibly confusing to Jimmy, the statement appears to fortify Cas. He pushes his chair back and stands up, reaching out to grasp Dean around his bicep so that he can turn Dean back around to face him. 

“You said that you were just going to break things off with Jimmy so that _we_ can be together, Dean. I love you! You told me that you loved me too!” 

Shocked sounds erupt from several points around the table – Jimmy’s spot amongst them – but dean only has eyes for Cas. “I do, Cas. I do love you. And that’s why we can’t be together anymore.” 

Cas’s grip on his arm tightens almost painfully, but Dean can’t find it in himself to care. He idly wonders if he’ll ever care about anything ever again. 

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Cas shouts. “Why are you doing this?!”

“Because,” Dean says, sounding much calmer than he feels. “Because before the two of you met me, you weren’t just brothers.” He looks between the twins, who glance at each other briefly before looking back at Dean. “You were _best friends_.” 

“Yeah? And?” Jimmy says, obviously not grasping the point of Dean’s words. Cas shoots Jimmy an annoyed look, but Dean can tell that he does understand the point that Dean’s trying to make, so he focuses his next words solely on Cas, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and resting their foreheads together gently. 

“And you shouldn’t have to give that up,” he says softly. “Not for anything… but especially not for me.” 

“Dean, I-“ Cas begins to speak but Dean cuts him off with a brief, harsh kiss. 

“I’m sorry,” he says simply, but wholeheartedly, and then he abruptly pulls away and strides out of the room.

He’s worried that one or both of the twins will follow him as he goes to Cas’s bedroom and quickly throws his belongings together. But when someone finally does join him, he’s surprised to see that it’s Gabriel. He’s holding Dean’s jacket over his arm and his trademark smirk is absent. 

“I know that you won’t believe me, but I’m sorry that it all went down like this.” Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just says nothing and continues to pack. “I’ve never seen Cas so happy before. Jimmy, sure, he’s always happy. But Cas? It takes something special to make him smile like he does when he talks about you.” 

The reminder is just another knife to the heart and Dean wonders what the fuck Gabriel is playing at. Does he think that reminder will make Dean feel better about what’s happening right now?

“Just…” He takes a deep breath and swipes at the tears blurring his vision before looking over at Gabe. “Just take care of him, ok? Make sure that they fix things between them.” He swings his duffle bag over his shoulder and takes his jacket from Gabe’s outstretched hand. 

“I will.” Dean nods and fishes the keys to the Impala out of his jacket pocket, then moves to leave. Gabriel follows him down the hall and then the stairs. They can hear multiple raised voices coming from the dining room, but they don’t slow down. 

Dean let’s Gabriel lead the rest of the way back to the garage so that he can handle opening the garage door and closing it again. “Drive safe,” he says, pushing the button which sets the garage door in motion. 

Dean gets in and starts her up, chaffing his hands together to generate warmth in the cold confines of Baby’s cab. As soon as the door is all the way up he reverses out of the driveway, getting out onto the street and speeding away. 

It’s gloomy out – grey skies and grey snow – the world mirroring Dean’s mood. The radio is playing a much loved and familiar tune. But all that does is remind Dean that he doesn’t deserve to have things that he loves, so he clicks it off and speeds up. The silence is deafening – the sound of Baby’s engine the only thing between Dean and his poisonous thoughts.

Eventually the thoughts win out and Dean pulls over to the side of the road. He’s crying too hard to see clearly anymore. He doesn’t know how long he’s been driving – not even sure if he’s headed in the right direction, honestly. And before he knows it, he’s on the phone with Sam, spilling his metaphorical guts out about the whole fucked up situation and feeling even worse for ruining Sam’s Thanksgiving. 

But instead of bitching Dean out for being a shitty excuse for a brother… or a boyfriend… hell, even a human being, Sam is doing his best to reassure him – telling him that he’s loved, that he matters, and that Sam is coming home tomorrow instead of Sunday like he’d planned. Dean doesn’t agree, not at all, especially with Sam’s plan of cutting his trip short. But Sam is adamant and makes Dean promise that he’ll be careful driving home.

“ _I mean it, Dean,_ ” Sam says, sounding more like a worried mother than a little brother. “ _Baby doesn’t need any more body work. She’s pretty just like she is._ ” And yeah, Dean can’t argue with that. He’ll pull his shit together if only for Baby’s sake. His girl doesn’t deserve him being careless. 

“Alright, Sam. I promise to be careful.” He pulls some fast food napkins out of the glove compartment and blows his nose before signing off with Sam. He promises also to call again when he’s safe at home, and then he’s back on the road again. 

He turns the radio back on and tries to pretend like he hasn’t just walked away forever from the love of his life. Of course, that’s hard to do when the first song that’s playing is [Love Hurts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZhNW_jKrQY%20), by Nazareth… because of course it is. 

He can’t help but laugh a bit maniacally at that point. He knows the giddy feeling won’t last, but figures he should make the most of it while it lasts, so he cranks the sound and sings along, mentally counting down the seconds until the tears will get to be too much again. 

_No fucking shit, love hurts,_ he thinks. _But does it ever stop?_


	28. Chapter 28

One month. 

It’s been one month since Thanksgiving. Only one month since Castiel has seen Dean, though it feels like forever. 

He counts each day like a prison sentence, knowing that he’s been sentenced for life, but never quite able to give up hope of an appeal. 

During the day he has thrown himself into his work, shutting himself up in his office until late into the evening so as to avoid going home to his empty condo. Because at night he lies awake in his bed, which is much too large and too cold now that Dean isn’t there to share it with him.

“ _I’m headed out, Boss. See you tomorrow?_ " Meg’s voice coming out of his desk phone’s speaker startles Castiel out of his thoughts and he drops the pen that he had been slowly clicking while his mind wandered. 

“Yes, thank you Meg, see you then.” He sits up straighter then and refocuses his eyes on his laptop screen, checking his email to make sure that there aren’t any last minute preparations for the company holiday party tomorrow night. 

He regrets giving Crowley free reign for planning the joint company event, but it had been the only thing that he had asked as recompense for Dean assaulting him, so Castiel had been quick to agree at the time. 

Unfortunately, booking the party on Christmas Eve was only the first poor decision that Castiel had had to deal with. He reminds himself that Christmas Eve is tomorrow though, so he only has to get through one more day and then he’ll be done with Crowley for a while.

Of course, that thought just serves to remind him that Christmas Day is the day after that and he has yet to decide what he’s going to do. He hasn’t been back to Pontiac since Thanksgiving – still too angry and ashamed to bring himself to speak to any of his family outside the cold, professional confines of the business. 

He suspects that Gabriel has been keeping tabs on him through Meg though, which doesn’t surprise him, but he’s outwardly kept his distance, respecting Castiel’s wish to be left alone. 

Everything looks in order for tomorrow so he lets his mind wander and is soon once again thinking about the thing that has been occupying his mind whenever he isn’t actively trying to forget about it… or well, not _it_ , but rather _him_ … Dean.

He unlocks his phone and brings up his contacts list – finding Dean’s name almost on autopilot. His thumb hovers over the number for probably the tenth time that day, but the screen blacks out before he makes the move to press it. 

At first Castiel had tried calling and texting repeatedly. He’d left messages begging Dean to change his mind and come back to him. But he never answered. So after three weeks Castiel had stopped. Sam assured him that Dean was ok, and while it hurt to know he was being ignored, he tried to find solace in knowing that Dean had people looking after him. 

And it helped, it did. But it didn’t make him miss Dean any less. It didn’t stop Castiel from lying awake in the middle of the night thinking about Dean and wondering if Dean were thinking about him too. 

Unlocking his phone again, Castiel closes the contacts and opens up the photo album instead. He has countless pictures of Dean in all manner of situations, but his finger goes unerringly to his favorite one. 

He had taken it late one night when Dean had stayed at his place. They had just finished making love and Dean had gotten up from the bed, wrapped a sheet around him, and ambled over to the windows where he pushed the curtains back and stood staring out at the bright city lights and the dark expanse of Lake Michigan beyond. 

His beautiful face had looked contemplative, but not really happy. So Castiel had joined him there, sliding close up behind him, and wrapped his arms lovingly around his waist. Dean had relaxed into his hold and hummed in contentment, but Castiel had felt an overwhelming need to see him smile, so he had leaned forward and blew his hot breath on the window to cause a fog of condensation, and then proceeded to write both of their initials inside a heart – just like he’d done all those months ago. 

The silly action had not only earned him a smile, but also a very enthusiastic kiss. And Castiel couldn’t help but grab his phone and take a picture of the both of them, selfie-style with the heart in the background. Castiel had been looking at the camera, but Dean had been looking at Castiel, and the look of love and adoration on Dean’s face is one that Castiel doesn’t ever want to forget. 

At the time he never thought he’d have a chance to forget. He thought that it would all work out and he’d get to have Dean look at him like that always. That Dean would come to his senses and stop seeing Jimmy and commit himself to Castiel for the rest of their lives. 

In fact, the very next day Castiel had gone out and bought a ring with that very thought in mind. A platinum ring with a row of channel-set, princess cut diamonds, and an inscription on the inside that reads, ‘To Dean, from Castiel – Always and Forever.’ Because while Castiel knows that Dean would never ask for anything so expensive, he also knows that it’s something that Dean would absolutely love, and Castiel would be willing to do anything that makes Dean happy, no matter the cost. 

Which is why this breakup has been such absolute torture for Castiel. Because if he could believe that Dean is happier without him, he would find a way to forget about the green-eyed love of his life (who is always in Castiel’s mind whether awake or asleep) and try his best to move on with his life. But in his heart, he knows that Dean loves him as much as he loves Dean, and if Dean is even half as miserable as Castiel is without him, there’s no way that he can be happy with how the way things are now. 

“You really do love him, don’t you?” Jimmy’s quiet voice startles Castiel out of his inner musings and he whips his head up from where it had been resting in his hands while looking down upon his phone, which is resting on his desktop. 

“Yes,” he answers simply. “I do.”

He leaves it at that though, and briskly goes about shutting down his computer and readying himself to leave for the night. He doesn’t know why Jimmy has decided to corner him like this, but he’s really not in the mood to fight, so he shrugs on his trench coat and tries to slip past his brother without so much as a glance in his direction. But Jimmy is blocking the exit so it’s kind of a doomed plan from the start. 

“Cas, wait,” Jimmy implores, laying a hand gently on Castiel’s chest when he tries to get past him. “Can we please just talk for a minute?”

“I’m really quite busy, Jimmy. If there’s a business matter that needs my attention, make an appointment with Meg tomorrow. If not, there’s somewhere that I need to be.”

“Bullshit.” Jimmy’s bluntness isn’t at all surprising, but Castiel is nothing if not stubborn, so he fixes Jimmy with his best icy death-glare and prepares to stare him down. “That stone-faced statue act won’t work on me, Cas. We can stand here all night if you like, but I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and returns Castiel’s look. And unless Castiel wants to physically muscle his way out the door, he supposes that he’ll just have to see what Jimmy wants. 

“Fine, then. Talk.” 

Jimmy drops his arms to his sides and his shoulders slump so that he resembles a deflated balloon. “I miss you,” he says, not looking up from where he’s currently gazing at his shoes. 

Something crumbles inside Castiel at those three little words – a shoddily built wall in his heart that was erected right around the time that Dean came into their lives. It hurts… by God it hurts to know that his twin is suffering, and all because of him. But Castiel has been suffering too, and he doesn’t know if there’s any way to make it right again. 

He sighs defeatedly and tries to begin. “Jimmy, I-“

“Just listen, Cas… please. Let me get this out and then you can talk.”

Castiel nods and steps back to lean against his desk, literally and figuratively giving Jimmy the floor. “I’m listening.” 

“When I first met Dean… that first time we spoke… the most glaring thing that stood out to me was that it was a good thing that I met him first. Because I knew, even then, that if you had taken that meeting instead of me, it would have been you sharing his bed that night, and not me.” 

Castiel clenches his jaw at the reminder and tightens his hands where they hold fast to the edge of his desk, so as to not haul off and punch his brother right in the mouth. 

“He was everything that I knew you’d want, and because of that I couldn’t help but grasp onto him before you had a chance. That’s not to say that it was some kind of hardship to get him to fuck me-“ 

“ _Jimmy…_ ” Castiel growls threateningly. 

Jimmy holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry… sorry, cas. You know what I mean. It’s just… I’ve always looked up to you. And there’s always been some jealousy there. I just, for once, wanted you to look up to me. For you to be jealous of something that I had and you didn’t.” 

Castiel loses some of the tension and scoffs, shaking his head in exasperation. _What a childish, insecure way to act,_ he thinks to himself. 

“It was foolish, I know. But then I could tell that it went beyond plain old jealousy. That you really, really wanted him. And that he may want you too. I just couldn’t think beyond coming out the winner.” 

He stops speaking for a while but Castiel can tell that he isn’t finished. So he waits him out while Jimmy paces back and forth in front of him.

“And you know me, Cas! I’m not a long-term relationship kind of guy! If I hadn’t gotten caught up in the competition aspect of it all, I probably would have broken up with him anyway. I mean, he’s a really nice guy, and _really_ great in bed-“ He trails off at the most-likely murderous look on Castiel’s face. “Right, not the point. My point is that regardless of the cheating and the commitment that he made to me, I should have just stepped aside and let him be with you without any hard feelings. 

“I won’t say that what you two did behind my back didn’t hurt me, because it did, Cas.” 

Castiel swallows past the sudden lump in his throat, trying to come up with something to say that will encompass all the guilt he feels for hurting Jimmy. But his brother starts talking again before he has the chance. 

“It hurt, and it probably always will. But I know that if the circumstances had been reversed, it wouldn’t have gone down like that. And not because I wouldn’t have tried – you know I’m not that noble – no, it wouldn’t have gone down like that because Dean wouldn’t have risked messing up what he had with you. Not for me… not for anyone.

“I couldn’t see it at first. I couldn’t see anything past what the two of you were doing to me. But I could see it at Thanksgiving, and I’ve had a lot of tme to think about everthing that happened, and Cas… You love him. Like, _really_ love him. And he loves you too. I’ve known it since Halloween.” 

Castiel tries not to get his hopes up because what does it even matter now? Dean is gone. He can’t help asking though… “How do you know that?” 

“I know because that’s when he stopped calling me, ‘Baby.’”

“What?” Castiel asks, the surprise evident in his voice. 

“He stayed with me because he promised he would, but I could tell he did it mainly out of a sense of obligation. I’m not blind, Cas. I could tell that he was thinking of you when he was with me. He stopped using his pet name for me, stopped initiating sex. And I’m pretty sure the only reason he would even look me in the eyes during is so he could pretend that he was looking at you.” 

Castiel can’t help how Jimmy’s words cause his heart to warm, but the swell of happiness is soon doused by the cold feeling of guilt that comes with them. 

“You didn’t deserve that, Jimmy. You didn’t deserve any of this. I’m so sorry that we hurt you.”

“You’re damn right I didn’t deserve it! And you _should_ be sorry!”

Castiel moves, preparing to leave once again. “I am sorry, Jimmy, and I regret hurting you. I do.” Turning to face Jimmy, Castiel gets close and looks him straight in the eye, wanting to emphasize his next point. “But I don’t regret being with Dean, and I never will.”

“I know,” Jimmy responds quietly. He continues to look Castiel in the eye, but his gaze softens noticibly. “And for what it’s worth… I forgive you, Cas. I forgive both of you.” 

“You do?” A heaviness that has been weighing on him for months suddenly begins to lift, and Castiel can’t hide the hope that he feels from showing in his voice. 

Jimmy steps close and pulls Castiel into an all-encompassing hug, and it is all Castiel can do not to break down sobbing.

“I love you, Cas… no matter what, apparently. I’ve been so fucking miserable the past three months. But I was miserable because I didn’t have you. You’re my best friend and I hate not having you in my life. I don’t care anymore what happened. I just want you back.” 

Jimmy is crying and shaking at this point, and Castiel would be lying if he said there weren’t a few tears in his eyes as well. 

“I’m here, Jimmy. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Yes you are,” he contradicts, pulling back and shrugging on his own coat. “You’re going out for a late dinner, and so am I.” 

“I guess I could eat,” Cas says, wiping a few errant tears from his eyes and following Jimmy out the door. Their relationship isn’t completely healed, not by a long shot. But it’s a start.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Dean hands over his black, wool overcoat and pockets the ticket he receives in return. Then he gives the pretty coat check girl a half-hearted smile before turning a full-hearted glare on his big, little brother. 

“Come on, Dean. You’ve been moping around the house for weeks. It’s good for you to get out of the house. Who knows, maybe you’ll find your soulmate here tonight?” 

Dean scoffs and follows Sam up the marble stairs and into the large, dimly-lit, but very ornate hotel lobby. 

“Pass,” he says, making his way toward the bar. The only reason he agreed to attend this fancy shindig is because Sam promised him a steak dinner and all the free booze he could handle. “Just because Sarah agreed to marry you doesn’t mean we’re all looking to get stuck with one person for the rest of our crummy lives.” 

He orders a double shot of ridiculously expensive whisky and pretends not to notice the look of pity that Sam gives him. Sam knows that Dean’s completely full of shit, but he also knows not to call Dean on his shit in a place like this, so instead he bites his tongue and orders his own drink. 

Dean sips on his whisky and takes the opportunity to look up at the grand, painted ceiling before dropping his gaze to do some people-watching. Sarah is supposed to meet them there, so he keeps an eye out for her. He doesn’t see her, but another familiar face catches his attention. 

“What’s Cas’s secretary doing here?” I thought you said this party was being thrown by one of your clients?” 

Sam gets a very shifty look on his face that doesn’t bode well at all before answering evasively. “Oh, well it is… But it’s a joint party.”

“A joint party? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Sarah walks up to them from behind and greets them with a cheerful, “Hey, guys!” and Sam takes the opportunity to avoid answering Dean’s question. He gives her a quick kiss and then turns back to the bar to order her a drink. 

“Hey, Sarah, what did Sam mean when he said that this is a ‘joint party’?”

“Oh, that means that it’s being thrown by Crowley’s company, but it’s the Novak company’s holiday party too.” 

_Fuck!_ He should have known better than to trust Sam not to have some ulterior motive. He’s been trying to get Dean to talk to Cas for weeks. He should have known something was up when he suddenly stopped pestering him when he agreed to go to this party. 

Well, there’s no way that he can stay here now – no matter how good the free grub is. Maybe he can just slip out quietly ad tell Sam off later. 

But a strong hand around his bicep shoots that plan all to hell. 

“Dean, come on, don’t leave,” Sam pleads, pulling out his top-shelf puppy eyes.

“No way, Sam. Not a chance. How could you think that this would be a good idea? Do _they_ even know that I was going to be here tonight?”

“Well…”

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter. I’m leaving.” He rips his arm out of Sam’s grasp and turns to go, but he’s woefully unprepared for what he sees when he does. 

On the other side of the room he sees Cas with that blonde, British douchebag Balthazar. He knows that it’s Cas because of his wild hair, and also the fact that he’s wearing that same old blue tie that he loves so much. That tie that just so happens to currently be wrapped around Balthazar’s hand as he pulls Cas close and shoves his tongue down his throat. 

Dean takes the time to calmly set his glass down on the bar, but after that he just sees red.

Before he knows it, he has shoved Cas gently out of the way and punched Balthazar so hard that he is knocked out cold and crumpling ot the floor. 

“Dean?! What the hell? Why did you do that?!”

Dean is sent reeling because, _oh shit_ , not only has he just knocked this dude out cold, but the Novak currently standing there screaming at him isn’t Cas. He doesn’t know why Jimmy is wearing Cas’s tie, but there’s no mistaking the fact that it is, in fact, Jimmy – and _not_ Cas.

“Oh my God, Jimmy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I thought you were…” He trials off without finishing a sentence because really, what the hell could he possibly say to make this ok? Even if it had been Cas, Dean had no right to-

“Dean?” Dean turns around, chest heaving and mouth agape, to see Cas standing there looking like he’d just arrived. He’s in a tux with a black bow tie, his hair tamed in some semblance of order, for him at least. And now that Dean thinks about it, Jimmy is the one that looks out of place, and Dean is starting to suspect some kind of set up. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I shouldn’t be here.” Balthazar is starting to come to on the floor, which gets the attention of everyone in their little group. 

It’s distracting enough for Dean to slip away unnoticed (he hopes) and he makes a break for the staircase, bypassing the coat check completely so that he can just get the fuck out of there already. 

It’s cold and has begun to snow, but Dean decides to just start walking instead of waiting for a cab outside the hotel. Maybe the brisk walk will cool his heated blood. 

God! How could he be so fucking naïve? 

“Dean!” _Shit._ Dean ducks his head and picks up the pace, hoping to lose himself in the crowd. It doesn’t work though. “Dean, stop!”

He feels a large hand grab him roughly by the arm, pulling him to a stop. And then Cas is in front of him, big, blue eyes wild and his hair now in complete disarray. 

“Where are you going?” Ok… not the question that Dean is expecting. Also, a question who’s answer seems pretty self-evident. 

Um… away from here?” It comes out ke a question because quite honestly, Dean doesn’t understand why Cas is asking him this. As a matter of fact, Dean doesn’t even know why Cas followed him in the first place. “Look, I’m sorry I punched your friend. I’m sorry I was even there to begin with. If I had known it was your party I never would have come. You can blame Sam for not telling me. Because believe me, I will sure a s hell be blaming him.” 

“Oh…” Cas slips his hands into his pockets and looks dejectedly at the snow beginning to accumulate on the ground. “When I saw you standing there by the bar, I thought… Well, I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought. I suppose you want to talk to Jimmy? I can go get him for you if you want. I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you.” 

Dean huffs in exasperation. Could this night get any fucking worse? Oh, apparently it can, because at just that moment, Sam and Jimmy come running down the sidewalk to join them. 

“Oh, well here he is. I guess I’ll just be getting back. Sam? Would you come with me? I think they want to be alone.” 

Dean is just about ready to pull his hair out, and the next person getting punched is going to be Sam. “That won’t be necessary,” he says, with all the restraint he can muster. “Jimmy, I’m sorry I punched your… whatever he is to you. I don’t know what came over me. I can promise you that it won’t happen again.” 

Dean watches as Cas tries to slip surreptitiously away, but he doesn’t get far before Jimmy grabs him by the sleeve and pulls him back. Dean himself tries to take the opportunity of the distraction to try to slip away himself, but Sam and his gargantuan bulk is there to stop him, worse luck. 

“I know exactly what came over you, Dean,” Jimmy says, still holding fast to Cas’s sleeve. “You did it because you thought I was Cas and you couldn’t stand idly by while Balth tongue-fucked the man you love.” 

Dean opens his mouth to refute the claim, but it’s Sam this time who forestalls him. “Don’t you dare try to deny it, Dean. You’re still in love with Cas and you’re miserable without him!”

All at once, Dean decides that he’s reached his limit on bullshit and politeness. His life has gone to shit already, so what’s one more screaming match in the fucking snow in the middle of downtown Chicago. It’s not like it’s the weirdest thing the locals have ever seen. 

“And so what if I am, Sam?! It doesn’t change a fucking thing!” Now that the truth is out, Dean can’t take his eyes off Cas. He seems to be in a similar situation because without even watching where he steps, Cas approaches Dean as if there’s an invisible string pulling him in. And before he knows what’s happening, Cas is directly in front of him, holding Dean’s face tenderly in his hands and looking at him as though he can see into his very soul.

“Is it true, Dean? Are you still in love with me? Because if you are, I can assure you… it will change everything.”

Dean spares a glance to check Jimmy’s expression, but all he sees is a genuine smile and an encouraging nod. 

“You know I am, Cas,” he says quietly. “But I can’t be with you if it means breaking up your family. I can’t do that to you.”

Cas lets go long enough to wrap Dean up in a crushing embrace. “That won’t happen, Dean. I promise. Jimmy and I have talked about it. He forgives us and he just wants us to be happy.”

Dean can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s too good to be true. He pulls back to look at Jimmy and is surprised by the huge grin on his face. 

“It’s true, you have my blessing,” Jimmy confirms with a slight shrug. “On one condition.” 

“And what’s that?” Dean asks, trying to keep his heart form beating out of his chest. 

“I get to be the best man.”

“What?” Dean asks, confused. Jimmy’s only response is to point his chin in Cas’s direction, and Dean turns to see the man on one knee down in the snow with a small, red box in his hands and a hopeful, terrified look on his face. 

“Dean Winchester,” he says, and Dean feels his heart jump up into his throat. “I love you more than I ever thought possible. My life is nothing without you to share it with.” Dean can feel the tears start to run down his cheeks, and he rushes to wipe them away before they can freeze on his face. “I want to spend every day of the rest of my life making you happy, if you can find it in your heart to consent to be my husband.” 

Dean doesn’t say anything right away – still too gob-smacked to speak a word.

“Dean,” Cas reiterates, getting to his feet and leaning in so that their foreheads rest gently together. “Will you marry me?”

Dean begins to nod an affirmative, but then he surges forward to kiss Cas soundly on the lips, repeating, “Yes!” over and over again between kisses and laughing sobs. He turns his head long enough to see identical, wide smiles on the faces of their brother – Jimmy’s gaze slightly lowered to where he has his phone turned sideways and aimed at them, probably recording the whole proposal. 

He’d give his future brother-in-law a hard time for it if Cas weren’t currently grabbing his left hand and sliding on a ring.

“Where did you even get this?” he asks, bringing the thing up closer to his face to marvel at the sparkle of precious stones shining in the light of the street lamp. 

“Cartier,” Cas answers, and wow, this thing must have cost a fortune. But that’s not what he meant. 

“What I meant was, _when_ did you get it? And why did you have it on you right now?”

“Oh, well I bought it just before Thanksgiving, and I’ve kept it on me ever since. At first I was just waiting for the right time.” He casts a nervous glance at jimmy, but his win seems completely unaffected by his words. “And then after… well, I couldn’t give up hope that one day I would have the chance again. You’re it for me, Dean. I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. And I’ll continue to love you until the moment that I take my last breath.” 

“ _Cas…_ ” They begin kissing again, uncaring of the cold or the gaggle of onlookers streaming past them on the sidewalk. All that matters is the two of them right now.

Unfortunately, not all of their group agrees… 

“All right, all right, save it for the penthouse suite that I have booked for you later tonight. I’m freezing my balls off out here and I should probably go make sure that my date doesn’t need to go to the hospital.” Jimmy is rubbing his palms together and looking impatient to return, but Dean can help but give him shit for one thing.

“So this _was_ a set-up, wasn’t it?” He asks, giving equal looks of chastisement between Jimmy and Sam.

“What? You think I’d wear this tie to an event like this because I thought it looked good? And that’s not to even mention my hair-“

“Hey!” Cas shouts indignantly. “I love that tie!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, you can have it back tomorrow. Now come on… I’m never going to get laid tonight if my ass gets frostbite.” 

Dean can’t help but laugh, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing Sam a dirty look when he says, “Don’t think you’re forgiven just because this all worked out for the best.” 

“I _know_ I’m forgiven because this all worked out for the best,” he answers with a cocky smirk, and yeah, Dean knows he’s right. Doesn’t mean he’s got to be gracious about it. So instead he just flips him off as they set off back towards the hotel. There’s a smile that won’t leave his face though, because Cas grabs him firmly around his waist to guide him back and looks at him with that perfect, beautiful smile of his. A smile that he can’t wait to see every day for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A year and a half and 110,000 words later, this work is complete. Thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck with me from the beginning, and everyone who joined later too. The love and encouragement has meant everything to me and I just want you all to know how appreciated you are. 
> 
> I’m planning on writing at least an epilogue for the wedding, and possible other additional scenes/short stories for this work, but they will be posted as stand-alone works (possibly part of a series), and not until after I’m done with my other WIPs. So if you’re interested, please subscribe to my username so that you can get updates for any other works that I post. And if you’re a fan of my writing, check out my other stories too!


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